


Still Breathing

by WastelandMama



Category: Brotherhood of Steel - Fandom, Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Casual Sex, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 113,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WastelandMama/pseuds/WastelandMama
Summary: “I am not used to being accosted on my own ship and quizzed by some scavver--”“General.”“--madam. Regardless of my knowledge of your no doubt terribly impressive and important settlements, I do care about the people of the Commonwealth and will see to it that they’re kept safe from the Institute.”The glasses got pushed back again and she stared at him. Her eyes weren’t at all the brilliant sky blue of Sarah Lyons’, but for some reason she reminded him of her all the same with that heated, unyielding look. “Are you sassing me, young man?”~~~~~~~~~Elder Maxson arrives in the Commonwealth & finds something far more dangerous than the Institute waiting for him: a pint-sized terror in a tricorn hat who somehow slips past every defense in his arsenal... literally & figuratively.This story inspired by askelderarthurmaxson on Tumblr, who got me to reexamine who I thought Arthur Maxson was. ❤️





	1. Preamble

**_Preamble, Part I_ **

 

Arthur stood quietly, gathering his thoughts as representatives from each of the divisions present on the Prydwen assembled behind him. The ruins of Boston spread out before him and somewhere beneath that, like a radscorpion waiting to strike, the Institute.

Arriving in the Commonwealth had been, literally and figuratively, new territory for him. For the first time in his life, he was leading a campaign on foreign soil. Here the only help they’d have readily available were themselves. There was no cavalry coming if he failed these people. No rear d waiting to be summoned the way the Citadel had Addams AF base.

It was easy, in the forgiving light of sunset, to see how magnificent this city must have been pre-war. The impressive skyline was still mostly intact and his mind painted over it, busy roads and bright lights where now only destruction and the flickering fires of raider and super mutant camps existed. To his right, the Bunker Hill monument, once a testament to the strength and fortitude of a young America, now only served as a bittersweet reminder of his adopted home, the Capital Wasteland.

To think, all this history, all this civilization, destroyed by simple hubris and a deliberate, terrible kind of arrogance that lead to the idea of progress for progress’s sake.

The entire idea that for over two hundred years, instead of reflecting on the mistakes of man and working to make the world a better one for all, a whole community of gifted geniuses had been steadily following that same fatal path made him furious. There were times when he wondered if mankind even wanted to be saved from itself, or if they truly were doomed as a species.

Finally, the bosun's call sounded and he turned to address those present and the dozens of others who would hear his speech via direct broadcast.

“Brothers and Sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty.” A flash of  golden light caught his attention and he briefly frowned at the small figure slipping in through the door to the outer deck. Tardy...at least they were quiet about it. “Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth. You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction, and most impressively, without question. Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission.”

He paused for effect and his gaze lingered on the young lady who had walked right into the inner circle like she had a right to be there. What little of her he could see under all the mismatched Wasteland armor was unrecognizable, but the telltale Pipboy and old-fashioned sword on her hip meant she must be the new recruit Danse discovered. Bradley was her name, maybe? At least she knew to not interrupt. That alone made her far more respectful than most scavvers he encountered. She looked around at the soldiers all standing at parade rest, and quietly stood with her hands in her pockets, head tilted thoughtfully as she listened. The cordial smile she gave him was startlingly white against the dirt and grease smudged skin of her face.

“Beneath the Commonwealth there is a cancer... known as the Institute, a malignant growth that needs to be cut before it infects the surface. They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world's undoing for the second time in recent history. The Institute Scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb.” He had to work to keep his voice level. His frustration and anger at this type of madness was legendary within the Brotherhood, but it wouldn’t do to have an Elder ranting.

“They call their creation the synth, a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being. The notion that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horribly dangerous. And like the atom, if it isn't harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species. I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their synths are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly.”

“This campaign will be costly and many lives will be lost. But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy... itself.” He took a deep breath and tried to not let his mind dwell on the inevitable. “Ad victoriam!”

“Ad victoriam!” The soldiers present returned the salute and the echoing rumble of those below decks resounded through the Prydwen.

The girl had clapped politely at the end of his speech and now stood, quietly waiting to be acknowledged. He liked that. Danse had said she was clever and self-possessed in the field, good at following orders and taking initiative to problem solve. That would be a refreshing change of pace for a recruit.

He turned away from his reflection in her aviator sunglasses and stared out at the first stars of the evening as they appeared on the horizon. “I care about them, you know. The people of the Commonwealth.”

Arthur heard her step up beside him, staring out at the view. She gave no indication whatsoever that she’d heard him. That was...irksome. Of course, the view from the command deck was impressive. He cleared his throat, “I know this is overwhelming for you, but I'd appreciate your attention.”

She pushed her glasses back into her dark hair and looked up at him with clear, intelligent eyes. They were a shade of blue he’d never seen before and he wondered if she’d had some kind of enhancement through implants. “You have it, Mister Maxson. My apologies, I was...momentarily distracted.” Her voice was soft, deferential and had a cultured lilt to it he wasn’t used to hearing in the common rabble of the Wastes.

He almost smiled at her. Almost. “It’s Elder, actually...and yes, the view is quite breathtaking, is it not?”

A flash of pain crossed her face and she turned away from the window, “It’s something, alright.” The glasses, wholly unnecessary now that the sun had slipped beneath the horizon, went back on and she sighed heavily. “You know, if you cared about them, you'd leave them to their own devices.”

His eyes narrowed at her presumption of equality between them. It was not an initiate’s place to question the Elder. “Leaving them to their own devices is what reduced this metropolis to ruins in the first place. I'm a bit surprised that you don't realize that by now. ”

“Absolute power in the hands of a few corrupted souls is what caused...that.” She motioned at the skyline behind them. “You’re not going to convince me you’re right, Mister Maxson.”

Despite the delicate tone she used, he was now sure the disrespect had to be deliberate. “Elder. Despite that, Paladin Danse still feels you'd be an asset to the Brotherhood. Seeing as he's one of my most respected field officers, you couldn't get a better recommendation.”

The corners of her mouth turned up, “Danse is a sweet kid.”

If Danse was a kid, what did she see him as? “Danse is an unparalleled soldier with impeccable character and dedication to the cause. He’s hardly a _kid.”_

Her face tilted towards him and she gave him a long-suffering patient kind of look, “Alright, no need to get excited about it.”

Maybe Danse had been a little generous in his description of this particular recruit. Or maybe she did better in battle than in polite company. “Despite your lack of...decorum, I am following Paladin Danse’s recommendation. From this moment forward, I'm granting you the rank of Knight. And, befitting your title, we're granting you a suit of Power Armor to protect you on the field of battle. Wear it with pride.”

This only seemed to amuse her. “A Knight? What is this, the Dark Ages?”

He fixed her with his best Elder glare. “Judging from the state of the world, it wouldn't be a stretch to say we're living in that era again. In any event, once you're finished becoming familiar with the Prydwen and my staff, report to the Flight Deck for your new orders. Welcome aboard the Prydwen, soldier. Make us proud.” He saluted her and scowled outright when she clearly rolled her eyes at him from behind the shades. Disrespectful chit.

“Mister Maxson.”

“Elder.”

“Right. I’m afraid you’ve been laboring under a false pretense. I have no desire whatsoever to join the Brotherhood of Steel.”

He folded his arms and stared her down, “Then why are you on my ship, wastelander?”

The polite smile was back. “To introduce myself and formally welcome you to the Commonwealth, of course.” She extended her right hand and he reluctantly took it, shaking just once before releasing it. Her gloves were covered with grease and God only knew what else and now his hands would be, too. “My name is Elinor Bradley. General Elinor Bradley, actually. Of the Commonwealth Minutemen? It’s nice to meet you.”

He’d known her name, but none of Danse’s reports had mentioned a title. “That local militia?”

She chuckled and he’d never heard a more infuriating sound, “Yes, that local militia. I witnessed your arrival a few weeks ago. Very impressive, but it’s causing a bit of unease among my settlers. For how long, exactly, are you planning on gracing us with your presence?”

So she could be polite. Sort of. “Until the job is done.”

“Ah. ‘The job’ being?”

“The total and complete destruction of the Institute.”

Elinor nodded, “Alright, well, that sounds fine. Will you be requiring any assistance while you’re here?” She was rummaging around in her overstuffed pack and missed his incredulous stare.

“I was just about to ask you the same question.” Odds and ends were piling up at her feet. Duct table, pre-war books, and what looked to be a military-grade circuit board. He bent down to retrieve it but she beat him to it.

“Thanks, I’ve got it! Sorry about that. Somehow my notebook always ends up at the very bottom.” She stuffed her random bits of junk back into the pack and clicked a pen. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Questions?”

“Yes, I’m here on a sort of fact finding operation. Purely diplomatic, of course.”

She was supposed to be a diplomat? “That...sounds fine.”

“Wonderful! May I sit? I still have to attend to some things for Nordhagen Beach after this and it’s a bit of a walk.”

Nordhagen Beach. That must be the little settlement to the east. “Be my guest.”

“Thank you.” She sat on a nearby couch and sighed in relief, “I doubt I’ll ever get over having to walk everywhere...now then, I have a few concerns about your organization, if you don’t mind.”

Arthur could feel the headache building behind his eyes, “Concerns?”

“Yes, I was wondering if you could please clarify the Brotherhood’s stance on ghouls?”

“They’re abominations and should be put out of their misery.”

Her head tilted up and he once again stared at his own irritated reflection, “Do you mean ghouls or ferals?”

“Is there a difference?”

A line appeared between her eyebrows, “Is there a...goodness. Mister Maxson --”

“Elder.”

“-- you should know that the Minutemen count numerous ghouls among our people, including a settlement which is over seventy-five percent ghoul. We also consider the people of Goodneighbor as our staunchest and oldest allies.”

“Goodneighbor?”

“The second largest settlement in the Commonwealth? It’s mayor and several of its most prominent citizens are ghouls. I could have sworn you said you cared about the people here.”

“I do.”

“Then name three settlements that aren’t Diamond City or Goodneighbor.” Her voice had that sharp snap of Scribe Rothchild from his squire days.

“What?”

“There are twenty-nine Minutemen settlements and construction is set to begin on the thirtieth come summer. Name three.” The pen went tap-tap-tap on her notebook. She was clearly irritated with him. Some diplomat.

“I am not used to being accosted on my own ship and quizzed by some scavver--”

“General.”

“--madam. Regardless of my knowledge of your no doubt _terribly_ impressive and important settlements, I do care about the people of the Commonwealth and will see to it that they’re kept safe from the Institute.”

The glasses got pushed back again and she stared at him. Her eyes weren’t at all the brilliant sky blue of Sarah Lyons’, but for some reason she reminded him of her all the same with that heated, unyielding look. “Are you _sassing_ me, young man?”

Hells bells. Shades of Star Paladin Cross, too. For the first time in a long time, Arthur actually felt his age. It made him suddenly very uncomfortable and he decided the best course of action was to simply move things along. “Did you have any other questions?”

Elinor narrowed her eyes at him, “Yes, actually. I have heard from at least two sources who have spent time in the Capital Wasteland that your Brotherhood’s policy on ghouls is to shoot on sight. Are you planning on continuing your genocide here?”

He bristled at the implication, “Putting down suffering monstrosities is hardly genocide.”

The obvious steel in her spine when she stood and faced him made her seem at least a foot taller. It filled him with regret that she’d clearly been corrupted by the Wastes before their arrival. “I must insist that you rescind this policy while in our territory, Elder Maxson.”

There was an unspoken threat there and he raised his eyebrow, “Or?”

“Or you will force our hand, sir, and I highly doubt you want a war on _two_ fronts, correct?”

Arthur wasn’t sure if it was ridiculously amusing or simply maddening that she thought her collection of scavvers and farmers could possibly withstand the might of the Brotherhood, but putting down humans he didn’t necessarily have to had never been something he’d been interested in. Surely one small concession to smooth relations over was fine in the short term...and she _had_ called him Elder. Finally.

“We have no interest in ghouls in the Commonwealth. Only the Institute and their synths.”

“Well then...here’s to a one track mind, hmm?” She sat back down and scribbled a few more notes. “Clearly, the Minutemen and Brotherhood will never truly be allies, but as the enemy of my enemy is my friend, I suppose we can be friendly acquaintances.”

Quoting the Arthashastra? Impressive. “That sounds agreeable to me.”

Elinor nodded, “Right...I’ll have Preston send over a Treaty of Non-Aggression, then.”

“A treaty?”

“Yes, it will be similar to the one we have with Goodneighbor, only I imagine this one will have far less flowery platitudes since Hancock won’t be involved.” She gave him a patient smile. “You do know what a treaty is, don’t you?”

If he didn’t get away from this woman, his head was going to explode. “I am familiar with the concept.”

“Wonderful! My head of covert ops wasn’t sure.”

He glared down at the top of her head. This dirt-farmer turned mini-tyrant sure had delusions of grandeur. A covert ops division? What’d they do? Sneak up on brahmin perhaps? “Was that all?”

She looked up from her note taking, “Officially? Yes. Unofficially, I was told you have a doctor on board...do you mind if I visit them?”

“Are you ill?”

“I doubt it. I’ve had a splitting headache for three days, but I’m sure it's just stress. I just wanted to get cleared by a proper doctor though for my own piece of mind.”

“The Minutemen don’t have a doctor on staff?”

Elinor laughed, “We do, but she’s quite...radical when it comes to her treatments. If I complain of a headache to _her,_ I’m liable to wind up having my skull opened.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that, other than it sounded par for the course as far as Wasteland doctors went in his experience. “There’s Knight-Captain Cade. He’s our chief medic. I’m sure he’d be happy to help you, Knight.”

“General.”

“Right.”

Her bright eyes sparkled with something close to true amusement and she stood, extending her hand again. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Elder. It was...quite educational.”

Great. More grease. He shook her hand despite the dirt. “You’re welcome, General. I hope we meet again.” Hardly.

She smiled and slipped the glasses back down, “So long as we all agree to stay out of each other's way, I doubt that will happen, but it’s a pleasant thought just the same. Goodbye, Elder.”

He watched her go and resisted the childish urge to wipe his hand off on his coat. “Goodbye, General.”

The moment she’d gone below decks, he went to his quarters and washed up, then pressed an intercom button on the wall. “Kells?”

“Sir?”

“Send Proctor Quinlan to my quarters.”

“At once, sir.”

Five minutes later, Quinlan, followed closely as ever by his favorite cat, Emmett, knocked twice on the doorframe before entering. “You wanted to see me, Elder?”

“What information do we have on the Minutemen?”

The head scribe shrugged, “Not much. They’re based out of the old Fort Independence to the northeast. Lead officers seem to be a General Bradley and a Lieutenant Garvey.”

“Tactical capabilities?”

“Now that’s actually a very interesting subject. Apparently some years ago, they kept the entire region safe until infighting weakened them. They only managed to regroup a year ago under their new general.”

“So, what exactly can they do?”

“They have several settlements in the area and it's rumored that there are others further north, so they’re well supplied and manned. They also do seem to have heavy artillery available, but the design is...well, ancient.”

“Ancient? But proven?”

Quinlan nodded, “I believe they have taken out several raider bases using it, so yes, quite effective. They use a radio station to communicate, so they’ve been easy to monitor.”

“A radio station? How charming.”

“Charming and effective, Elder. It allows them to send what they call ‘Minutemen Alerts’ all across the region. They have patrols running constantly, you know. I suppose the idea is to literally be everywhere at once.”

“What about their base?”

“Well fortified. Fort Independence is hundreds of years old. Completely self-sufficient, well-stocked and well-manned. Attempting to take it would be foolhardy at our current operational capacity, sir.”

Arthur sighed irritably, “I’m not looking to start a war with a bunch of locals, Quinlan. I just had an...encounter with their General and felt woefully underprepared for the experience.”

“I had not realized they were a priority, Elder.” His tone was just shy of snippy.

Arthur rolled his shoulders and tried to not escalate the situation. Having the head of the Order of the Quill throwing one of his quiet tantrums wouldn’t help anyone with anything. “They weren’t. I’m now making them a priority. I want a full report on their capabilities and their General in particular.”

“The General, sir? Surely she’s just another of the common folk.”

“She’s...something, Proctor. Let’s try to find out what before we wander into a political quagmire.”

He nodded, “Understood, Elder. Anything else?”

“No, that will be all.”

Quinlan saluted him respectfully and left, already scribbling little notes on his latest assignment.

He glanced at the clock and shrugged out of his heavy coat, draping it over the bed. For some reason, despite handing it off to the Proctor, the little General was still on his mind. She was just...odd. That must be it. Everything about her screamed chaos and calamity, despite her soft voice and pretty eyes.

Arthur frowned to himself and sat at his desk. When had he decided they were pretty?

After transcribing the events of the day in his log, and definitely leaving out any personal observations about General Bradley, he stretched and winced a little at how stiff he’d become. Being all but confined to the ship while they set up base was resting heavy on him. Ever since he’d become the Elder, it had been harder and harder to come up with reasonable excuses to get out in the field. He understood his senior officers concerns, after all, he’d lived through all those years of revolving door leaders himself, but there were days, like today for example, when he felt like a bird in a gilded cage...or like the little boy he’d been trapped in the Citadel.

A respectful knock snapped him out of his musing. “Enter.” He swiveled around in his chair and smirked knowingly at the young man hovering in the doorway. “Scribe Howell.”

“Elder.” His dark brown eyes slid down Arthur’s frame.

He motioned him in. “Shut the door.”

A grin lit up the handsome face, “Yes, sir.” He quickly moved into his quarters and shut the door firmly behind him before leaning back against it.

Arthur’s gaze lingered on the bulge in the standard issue skivvies. “Trouble sleeping, Scribe?”

Howell nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Strip.”

One of the only nice things about having everyone stuck on the Prydwen is how little unspoken rules got created. Things like ‘if the Elder’s door is closed, he is unavailable’, or ‘no screwing where a squire could see’. Simple, standard stuff.

Arthur’s personal favorite was his open-door policy on helping to keep morale up by vigorous fucking. If his door was open, anyone aboard was welcome to ask for his assistance. If he was in the mood, you were invited in and told to shut the door. If not, then polite small talk would occur until you were kindly dismissed.

Being Elder at such a young age was a lonely existence when all was said and done. It wasn’t like he could simply casually date his own crew. That would be a shocking violation of protocol and cause endless internal conflict. His brothers and sisters were simply as concerned for his physical well-being as he was about theirs. They never forgot he was still their superior and he certainly never let them.

Scribe Howell quickly shimmied out of his underclothes and soft slippers, standing at parade rest like the good little soldier he was. His cock was already fully erect, precum just beginning to drip from the bulbous head.

The Elder maintained heated eye contact with his companion for the evening and slowly undid his belt buckle and pants, leaning back and relaxing in his chair as his own cock sprang forth, thick and quickly hardening as Arthur slowly pumped it.

“Crawl.”

Howell obediently dropped to all fours and crawled to him, seemingly entranced by the sight before him. He reached Arthur’s feet and watched him with pleading eyes.

He smiled down at him. “You may begin, Scribe.”

Scribe Howell took the head of his member into his warm mouth, moaning at the taste of the precum his tongue found. He lavished it with slow, thorough licks before settling down and sucking properly. Arthur’s hand sunk into his thick brown hair and pulled him forward, grunting a little as he met resistance.

“Relax your throat, Howell.”

The brown eyes stared up worshipfully at him and he swallowed once, pulling Arthur’s cock down his throat. Once the scribe’s nose finally touched his stomach, Arthur pressed even further, moaning as the hot, tight passage flexed and spasmed around him. Almost felt as good as being buried in a wet pussy; and his hips bucked a few times as he fucked the scribe’s face, the struggling, gagging sounds coming from the man somehow making Arthur want even more.

He finally, reluctantly pulled Howell off his member and let him take a few breaths, his eyes carefully watching the man’s face for any sign of true asphyxia. “Again.” He waited for the answering nod before pushing between his full lips again, plunging down his throat and wrapping his arms around the man’s head as he pumped. “Good, very good. Goddamn, Howell. You’ve been practicing with someone. Was it Danse? His cock could choke a super mutant.”

The scribe had finally found the rhythm and one of his arms slid around the Elder’s waist as he submitted, pushing his own face father down on Arthur’s cock, desperate to taste his come. His free hand was busy milking his own erection and he whimpered as he quickly came on the floor.

Arthur watched him writhe in ecstasy and chuckled, “You’ll be licking that up later, soldier.” A purring kind of moan answered him and he suddenly erupted, pulsing and jerking and overfilling his mouth. When he finally allowed his cock to slide from free, he smirked as drops of his come fell to join Howell’s on the floor. “You can clean that up, too.”

Howell’s eyes were unfocused and dark, his cheeks flushed. He really was almost too pretty to be out on the front lines like this. “Yes, sir.” He panted and got to work, his busy tongue eagerly licking up their salty emissions.

Arthur lazily began pumping his cock again, not that it really needed help recovering. He was a young man, after all, and this was just an appetizer for the main course. His other hand retrieved a bottle of clear oil from his desk and he applied it generously to his member, idly observing Howell’s enthusiastic efforts to keep his quarters neat and tidy while deciding on where he wanted him for the finale.

“On the floor, Scribe.”

“Yes, Elder.” Howell moved away from the desk, giving Arthur plenty of space to work, and obediently laid face down on the floor. Gasping softly at the coldness of the metal and wiggling a little in anticipation.

Arthur moved from the chair and pushed his pants the rest of the way down. His cock, as if sensing its prey nearby, bobbed in the cool air as he knelt over the man. He didn’t bother preparing him. It was common knowledge that you came pre-prepped for the Elder if you cared for any kind of foreplay or extra stimulation.

He lined himself up with Howell’s hole and pressed deep inside him, groaning as the tight sphincter resisted against his assault. He indulged in a few shallow thrusts before allowing his body weight to press him fully into the scribe, pushing him up a few inches along the floor. The scribe grunted and barely managed to brace himself as Arthur moved his knees a little further up and flexed hard against his ass, loosening it and allowing him to adjust fully to his considerable bulk.

Arthur pulled back and, almost as an afterthought, wrapped his hand around his mouth before slamming home. The muffled cries only served to goad him to further ravage the smaller man and he grunted into his ear as he fucked him. “Scribes, in my personal experience, seem to have the tightest asses of any of our divisions. You’re a testament to their ranks, Howell.”

His hand slid away from his mouth and wrapped around his throat, squeezing lightly. “Thank you, Elder.” The scribe just managed to rasp out before crying out as Arthur swiveled his hips and changed the angle of his pounding. “Thank you for fucking me.”

Now here was someone who knew the true meaning of respect. “You’re welcome, Scribe Howell.” His hand tightened around the sensitive, talented throat and he grinned as the man’s ass tightened in response. Arthur growled against his ear and pressed rough kisses against his temple. It was as affectionate as he allowed himself to get during these little encounters and it amused him to no end how such a simple, silly thing managed to make so many of his soldiers come beneath him.

Howell was no exception, bucking uselessly against the floor, his ass involuntarily spasming around the Elder’s lustful cock and crying out, biting his own forearm to muffle the sound.

Arthur let it carry him over the edge, too, shooting a few ropes into the scribe’s tight ass before pulling out and rutting against him, showering his back with sticky come. He allowed himself a small moment of calming solace in the closeness of another human while he caught his breath and then abruptly stood and headed for his private shower.

“Clean yourself up, Scribe. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He did not look back.

 

**_Preamble, Part II_ **

 

“It has come to our attention that you have plans to attack an organization known as the Railroad, _Mister_ Maxson.”

It had been months since their first and only encounter, but Arthur would recognize that voice anywhere. He sighed and turned away from the windows, his eyes landing on the Minutemen’s pint-sized General. The hat was a new, and amusing touch.

“Elder.”

Her chin went up a bit, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you plotting on murdering them?”

She made it sound like he was a villain from a play. “No one is _plotting,_ Knight. The Railroad is a dangerously misguided group of individuals. They seek to liberate synths and integrate them into human society. They must be stopped.”

A sharp, almost cynical look appeared on her face. “It’s General Bradley to you. And do you really expect me to believe this has nothing at all to do with PAM then?”

His mind briefly froze in astonishment. How the hell did she know about that? “PAM?”

“Predictive Analytic Machine. She prefers PAM.”

“If it’s a machine, it cannot be a ‘she’.”

Those bright, aquamarine eyes narrowed and Arthur was surprised at the disgust in them. “She is as she says she is, _Mister_ Maxson.” She huffed angrily and then seemed to attempt to collect herself. “It’s just math, you know. What she does. A special branch of mathematics called predictive modeling. Anyone can do it. I would be happy to share the primary algorhythm she uses with your scribes. There is absolutely no need to slaughter an entire group of people for the acquisition of what would amount to nothing more than a very fancy calculator in your eyes.”

Did the little pre-war vault dweller somehow have an unknown connection to the Railroad that Quinlin’s report had missed? Arthur frowned and dismissed the idea. It would mean Danse had missed it, too. That wasn’t possible. “We would certainly appreciate it, but even so, the Railroad must be stopped.”

“If you or your lackeys so much as lay a finger on any member of the Railroad, the Minutemen will consider it an act of aggression and our treaty will be null and void.” She glared up at him and put her hands on her hips. It reminded him of a very angry fairy he’d seen once in a movie. “Do you understand that, young man? People on all sides will die.”

He folded his arms and considered her words, “The Minutemen are allied with the Railroad?”

“The Minutemen are allied with anyone who fights against the Institute.”

“My men have their orders, General.”

Her eyes went wide and then filled with murderous intent. “As do mine, Elder. If you, or your men, move against the Railroad, we will blow you out of the sky.” She smiled menacingly at him and he’d seen less teeth on a Deathclaw. “And don’t try to get cute and attempt to abduct me to force pacification. If I’m not reunited with my men in an hour, they’ll open fire anyway.”

Now there was a terrifyingly banzai style of strategy. “With you aboard?”

“I will gladly forfeit my life if it keeps the Commonwealth free from your tyranny, Elder Maxson.”

His eyebrows raised at the passion in her words. This seemed to be an awfully personal matter to her. “I suppose you have...friends among the Railroad.”

She didn’t answer, the resolate fury in her eyes practically screaming at him. He wondered what on earth a placid sort of man like Preston Garvey had possibly been thinking naming such a volatile, foolhardy creature to the Minutemen’s highest office.

“Or a lover, perhaps?” He’d learned she was a widow. A widow searching for her lost child. There would probably be a great deal of tender comfort found in the arms of a comrade.

She stared at him in shock and then lifted that pointed chin even higher, “How dare you, sir! How dare you insinuate such a thing! I am a married woman.”

“Widowed.” Sorrow filled her eyes and he instantly regretted reminding her.

“Even still, I remain faithful.”

“Admirable.” And completely pointless. Cade’s medical file on her clearly stated that not only was she in excellent health, she was fertile to boot. It seemed a shame to waste the last viable pre-war genes on the planet over something as silly as sentimentality.

A muscle in her jaw twitched, “We’re getting off topic. Will you or will you not abandon your plans to destroy the Railroad?”

Abandon months of work or risk being blown out of the sky by nineteenth century cannons. Either would be an embarrassing blow to the Brotherhood. She wasn’t giving him much of an option. “I can...put a pin in it.”

Her head tilted, _“Put a pin_ in it?”

“It’s the best I can do, and all I can do. I wouldn’t even consider it except you’ve made it quite clear that you are on some kind of dangerously destructive tear. I do not appreciate this high-handed attempt to grab us by the balls, General.”

Her eyes flicked down to his crotch briefly and she scoffed, “No one here wants anything to do with your balls, Elder. I hardly think asking you to show some compassion for your fellow man is a destructive tear, either.”

“Is that what you’re calling this? A diplomatic mission to inspire compassion?”

“Absolutely.”

The woman really was mad. It was a pity. In another reality, he wouldn’t mind attempting to breed her himself. “Your statecraft needs polish, General.”

“Oh, I’m sure it does. I wasn’t born to this role. What’s your excuse?”

So she’d learned about what the Maxson name meant to the Brotherhood. Probably Danse’s doing. “Will that be all?”

She stared into space for a moment, clearly trying to remember something. “Oh, right. Tell your men to stay the hell away from my communities. If they want food, they can pay for it like everyone else. We’re not the ants to your grasshoppers.”

He blinked at her in confusion, “What?”

She sighed, “Wonderful, you don’t even know it's happening, do you?”

“What’s happening?”

“Your soldiers are waltzing into my settlements like they own the place and commandeering supplies.”

“They are not.”

“They are, too! They offer military aid in exchange, which we do not need, thank you very much. The communities who’ve tried to stand up to them have been...damaged.” She seemed to finally notice his growing rage and paused. “You...really _didn’t_ have anything to do with this, did you?”

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Whether it was due to rage or embarrassment at his soldiers lack of discipline in the field, he couldn’t say. “I did not. It will be handled, General. I apologize.”

Now that she didn’t have him to rage against, she almost seemed to be knocked off stride. “Oh, that’s...thank you.” The overstuffed pack came off her shoulders and she started digging through it. “While you’re being helpful, would you mind delivering a few things for me?”

He frowned at the odd request. “Do I look like a courier to you, Knight?”

She paused and looked up at him, smiling impishly. “No, but you do look like someone who wants to keep the Prydwen from being blown up. Time’s a-wasting, Elder Maxson.”

He glared at her and held his hand out. “Fine. Hurry it up then. The faster you get off my ship, the better.”

“Splendid!” She handed him two packages and a large manilla envelope. “Those go to Quin, Doctor C and Neriah, respectively.”

“I’ll see that they get them.” And then he was going to have a serious conversation with all senior staff on communications with locals.

She stuck her hand out, “Thank you for your attention, Elder Maxson. It’s been a thin slice of heaven, as always. I suspect we won’t meet again, so...goodbye.”

He took her hand, too focused on the punishment everyone who’d been involved in this embarrassing little scheme was going to receive to notice her odd farewell. “Goodbye, General Bradley.” Arthur watched her jog off and then looked at the packages in his hands. It occurred to him that if she were truly the ruthless little despot she clearly believed herself to be, these could be bombs. Then again, she’d have to have specialized training for that sort of thing and he doubted a pre-war lawyer had ever had that kind of education.

Quinlan’s room was first. Arthur walked in, stepping over cats that never seemed to get the memo that they weren’t the apex species on the ship.

“Proctor Quinlan.”

The older man looked up, clearly startled. “Elder Maxson! What are you doing here?”

He sighed, “It _is_ my ship, Quinlan.”

“Right, right, yes. Of course.” He coughed awkwardly and stood. “What may I do for you, Elder?”

He held out the envelope. “Knight Bradley brought this for you.”

It was out of his hands before he even finished his sentence. “Ah! My technical documents! No Knight, or Scribe for that matter, brings me quite as many. She’s a rare find, isn’t she?” Quinlan dug through the papers eagerly.

“That’s a nice way to word it.”

The proctor looked up and frowned a bit in confusion. “Do you not like Knight Bradley, sir?”

Arthur knew better than to give a true answer to that, so he affected the proper level of disinterest. “I have no opinion of her one way or the other.”

Quinlan narrowed his eyes and studied his face for just a moment before pulling a single page out of the envelope. “Aha! Here it is!” His eyes moved over the writing and he grinned. “Oh, clever girl.”

Curiosity got the better of him. “Did she find something interesting?”

He moved over to the chessboard on his desk and carefully considered the pieces. “I’m sure she has, but right now I’m almost positive…” He moved a bishop across the board and then studied it again. “Yes, see there? Check in two moves. She thought I wouldn’t catch that.”

Arthur stared at the board. “You’re playing chess with her?” Why hadn’t he thought of that?

“More like she’s playing with me, sir. It’s that pre-war education. Did you know they had competitive teams that played chess in her day? She told me she was on one in school.”

“No, I didn’t know any of that.”

“I knew I’d have my work cut out for me when she immediately opened with the Queen’s Gambit.” He grinned, “I haven’t had this sort of fun since I was a boy. All the strategies I’ve only ever read about, she’s actually done. It’s remarkable. Refreshing, even. I almost feel bad for my initial impression of her.”

“Hmm. Well, carry on, Quinlan.”

“Yes, sir.”

Arthur made his way over to Cade and politely pretended he didn’t overhear him admonishing a recent recruit over Wasteland ‘social’ diseases. He stayed with his back turned to his station until the boy finally left and then walked in.

“Cade.”

“Elder Maxson! How are you feeling today?”

“Fine, just here to deliver a package.”

Cade looked entirely too amused, “Did we run out of squires, sir?” He took the box and shook it, listening. “What’s the occasion?”

“Knight Bradley left it for you.”

“Oh. Oh!” Cade tore open the box and pulled out a note, which he quickly read and tossed aside. Under it was an oddly colored stimpak and beneath that, another piece of paper with a scientific looking formula written on it. Cade picked it up and studied it closely, squinting at the tiny, precise writing.

“Remarkable.”

Arthur picked up the stimpak and studied it. It had an odd pinkish tint to it. “What is it?”

Cade carefully took it from him and set it in his refrigerator. “I had mentioned to Ella that I was trying to strengthen our standard issue stimpaks for use in the field. Turns out her chief medical officer was working on the same thing. She sent along some of her work and the formula.”

“Ella?”

“Knight Bradley, Elder. She told me to call her Ella.”

He almost laughed. _Ella._ Something so simple and sweet for such a harrigan. “She mentioned her doctor was somewhat radical in her methods. Does it actually work?”

“The math looks right. Doctor Curie found a way to synthesize an enzyme out of mutfruit that makes the stimpaks five to ten percent more effective, depending on the strength of the mutfruit. If we can figure out a way to manufacture a synthetic version of the enzyme, we should be able to improve it even further.”

“I was unaware the Brotherhood and the Minutemen were involved in a collaborative project.”

Cade shrugged, “It was more a personal side project, Elder.”

“Nevertheless, I’d like a full report made on this.”

“Of course, sir. Anything else?”

“No. Carry on.”

Arthur left the medbay even more irritated than when he’d started this little errand. He wasn’t sure what bothered him so much about the fact that his lead scribe and medical officer were apparently able to have such an amiable relationship with the General. It was vexing. If the Brotherhood was going to work with another organization, he should be the go-between, shouldn’t he? Then again, maybe she had a problem with authority. Maybe this was one of those times when the title of Elder closed more doors than it opened. It was rare, but it did happen. He didn’t _like_ it happening, but he’d long accepted that some people would look at him and only ever see the power and not the man.

Senior Scribe Neriah was down in the bowels of the ship, as usual. Puttering about with her mole rats. Scribes and squires scurried about, watering plants and feeding the laboratory animals.

“Scribe Neriah, I have a package for you.”

She turned around from the mole rat pup she was examining and frowned. “Elder Maxson? Why are you in the lab?”

For fuck’s sake. You’d think he never left the command deck. “Package.” He held the box up and her frown only deepened. He ignored it. “From Knight Bradley.”

The frown immediately evaporated and she smiled. “Oh, Ella! It must be those samples!” She took the box and walked over to an examination table to open it.

So, another of his officers who had been charmed by the pint-sized terror. “Samples?”

Neriah unpacked a carefully wrapped tray of rich-looking earth with a few tiny leaves just starting to grow. “From one of her settlements. Warrick, I think it was? They have the best soil in the Commonwealth, or so I’m told. Ella said there was something unique about the plants, too, though. She asked me to look into it.”

“Did she now?” The seedlings looked normal to him. “Unique how?”

She slid the tray under a grow-light and clicked it on. “Supposed to exceptionally hardy and highly resistant to radiation.” Satisfied that the plants were happy, she dug through the box. There were a few sealed vials of dirt and water, and a few packets of seeds. She pulled out a small leather bound book. “What’s this supposed to be?”

Arthur set a vial down and took the book. “Looks like a journal.” He flipped it open and was surprised to find it was full of pictures. Candid shots of a busy little community, a wide field of healthy plants, decent water filtration systems and the last few pages were filled with images of proud settlers with giant produce and a table laden with overly large loaves of bread. There was even a picture of Ella taking a comically large bite out of a mutfruit nearly the size of her head while giving a thumbs up.

Neriah took the book and flipped through it. “Good God. Would you look at this? Can you imagine how much easier it would be to feed everyone on board if all our food was this big? No more rationing!” She finally got to the last picture and chuckled. “Ella’s such a goof, isn’t she?” She carefully peeled the picture out. “I’m putting this one at my work station. For inspiration, of course.”

“Of course.” He watched the happy scribe set the picture by her computer and tried to pinpoint exactly what the odd sensation in his stomach was. Irritation? No. That wasn’t it. He tried to match the emotion to a memory and was surprised when the only thing that came up was being a squire back at the Citadel watching the Knights get to engage enemies in the field and feeling...jealous. He was _jealous._ Of his officers? Or was it of General Bradley and her strange ability to inspire affection in people? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He didn’t like it. He needed to get back on task. “Speaking of rationing, have you heard anything about our soldiers in the field commandeering supplies?”

She thought hard for a moment. “No, but it wouldn’t surprise me. We go weeks with nothing but bland gruel and then suddenly there are more vegetables than the cooks know what to do with...hang on.” Her eyes darted about the lab before settling on one of the children there. “Squire Anders? Could you come here a moment?”

“Yes, ma’am!” The girl set down her watering can and trotted over, eyes going huge when she realized who was standing next to the scribe. “Scribe Neriah. Elder Maxson, sir.”

“Have you heard anything about where the fruit and vegetables have been coming from? I know you sometimes like to read in the aft section under the floor.”

The squire went bright red and stared down at her feet. “I-I’m sorry. I’m not trying to eavesdrop or anything. It’s just...its the only quiet place I’ve found on board.”

This one might be a candidate for their special ops in a few years if she could sneak right under the feet of his officers undetected already. Arthur put his hand on her shoulder, “It’s alright, Squire. You aren’t in trouble. Just answer Scribe Neriah’s question.”

“Y-yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She chewed on her lip for a moment. “Um, Proctor Teagan has been paying Knights in the field to requisition supplies.”

Teagan. Of course. “Have you heard anything about how the requisitioning is supposed to happen?”

“No, sir. I just overheard a few Knights talking about their new weapons they’d received in exchange for a few crates.”

Neriah nodded kindly at her, “Alright, that’s all we needed. Thank you, Anders.”

“Yes, ma’am. Elder, sir.” She saluted and scurried away back to her duties.

Arthur sighed, “Teagan.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not really, but I had hoped he’d know better. He about started a war with the Minutemen.”

She stared up at him, “But...Ella’s in charge of the Minutemen.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t he just ask her? She’s a Knight, she’s supposed to help her brothers and sisters and I’m sure she would have.”

He wasn’t quite so sure but just nodded. “Who knows what goes on in that head of his? I’ll let you get back to it. Let me know how the samples turn out.”

“Yes, Elder Maxson. I hope you have a pleasant chat.” Her tone indicated otherwise and he chuckled.

“I’m sure I will.”

He headed back up to the main deck. Teagan was a damn fine quartermaster, and an exceptional engineer to boot, but since the man had lost his lover, Lancer Rico, shortly after they’d arrived in the Commonwealth, he’d been playing fast and loose with the rules. Normally, Arthur liked to give his officers space and time to mourn, but he couldn’t turn a blind eye to shenanigans of this level. Especially with General Bradley’s capricious temper being the only thing between them and becoming cannon fodder.

Teagan was in his cage, as always, and smiled warmly as the Elder approached. “Elder Maxson! To what do I owe this privilege?”

He was in no mood for small talk. “The raiding of Minutemen settlements stops now.”

The older man’s face fell for a moment before he tried to pretend ignorance. “I...what? What’s happening?”

Arthur rubbed his forehead and willed the headache away. “Teagan, you know damn well what I’m talking about. I want you to tell everyone that the deal is off. No more weapons for produce. If you force me to do it for you, it will come with two weeks in the brig for you. Are we clear?” He really didn’t want to embarrass the man that way, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do.

“I...understood, Elder Maxson. I’ll get the word out. It won’t happen again.”

At least he knew when to back down. “Good.”

“What about the food shortages, sir? We’re already stretched thin and the growing season has barely started.”

The simplest solution here was also going to be the biggest pain in the ass for Arthur, but Teagan didn’t need to know that. “I’ll handle it. There will be increased deliveries.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re confined to the ship for the next two weeks.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Arthur nodded curtly and walked back through the ship, nodding politely at the salutes he received along the way. Danse was in the mess hall and he sat across from him and sighed heavily.

Danse looked up from his bowl of slop and raised an eyebrow, “Something wrong, Elder?”

“How many times has Knight Bradley been aboard the Prydwen, Paladin?”

He blinked, “Um...that I couldn’t say, sir. At least a dozen?”

At least a dozen. He’d only seen her twice and she’d been here at least a dozen times. “Why?”

Danse frowned at him, “Does she need a reason? She’s a Knight, isn’t she?”

“You’re her sponsor, so I understand if you’re...protective of her, but I want to ask you something.”

“Anything, sir.”

“Do you think truly believe Knight Bradley has the...temperament for being a member of the Brotherhood?”

He didn’t hesitate, “Absolutely.”

“Explain why.”

Danse stared at the table for a moment, thinking. “When we were pinned down at the Cambridge Police Station, I thought it would be our final stand. Rhys was down, Haylen was barely holding it together, I was nearly out of ammo. The ferals just kept coming. I’d never seen anything like it outside the tunnels of the Capital Wasteland.” Arthur nodded along. This had all been part of the initial report. “Then I hear this...battlecry? And suddenly there’s this tiny whirlwind, cutting down ferals like it was her job with this ridiculous old sword in one hand and a plasma pistol in the other. She had a dog with her that was equally vicious and the way they worked together, as a team, turned the tide. I was able to reload and regroup and in under ten minutes she’d cleared at least a few dozen ghouls. They were heaped up around her so high I had to help her over the pile.”

“Lots of people hate ferals enough to step into a fight like that.”

Danse shook his head, “That’s true, but she doesn’t. She told me she feels bad for them. That they’re suffering and she can’t stand it. Then she introduced herself, shook my hand and walked right up to Haylen and Rhys and introduced herself to them, too. Rhys was...well, _Rhys.”_

Arthur snorted. He’d only met the Knight a handful of times, and even that had been too much.

“He was really trying to give her the business. I think he hated a Wastelander seeing him like that. She sheathed her sword and for a second I thought she was going to punch him in the mouth. But she just felt his forehead, told Haylen he was feverish and asked her if we had enough stimpaks.”

“Generous.”

“Indeed. When he continued to try to run his mouth, she told him to mind his manners.” He laughed, “I don’t think he spoke again for hours, at least.”

At least he wasn’t the only person in the Brotherhood she got snippy with. “What about the Minutemen?”

“Good people. A little idealistic, maybe. Reminds me of the Lyons years, actually.”

“Really?”

Danse nodded, “It’s been...troubling to me, at times, how easily she can be diverted by calls for help. She’ll run herself into the ground over the most frivolous requests sometimes. But the more Minutemen they add to their ranks, the easier the work is for her. She’s got an engineering corps working on building settlements, doctors in each community, a entire provisioner system worked out. It’s impressive all the work she’s done.”

“She sounds driven.”

“She is. I know we’re here to take on the Institute, but...if we weren’t, I have absolute confidence that she would be the one to take them down. They made a fatal error when they took her child and left her alive.”

Arthur wondered what his own mother would have done in the same situation. “So you like her then? As a person?”

“Yes, I do. She’s a fine warrior, educated, and steadfast to those she’s loyal to. I’d trust her at my back any day.”

Danse sounded a little starstruck to Arthur’s ears. “So you’ve got no complaints about her? None at all?”

Danse scoffed, “Of course I have complaints. I mean, she’s _Ella._ You’ve met her. She’s entirely too stubborn. Borderline insubordinate at the best of times, outright defiant when the right mood strikes her. She associates with all manner of inappropriate people, including that so-called Mayor of Goodneighbor. She rushes into fights with no forethought to her own safety. I’ve seen her threaten to shoot a civilian over her Mister Handy, Codsworth, who she calls family. I don’t know if it's something to do with her being pre-war, or maybe her brain was somehow damaged during cryostasis, but she seems to have no real understanding of what makes someone a person.” He shook his head sadly. “We really should have Cade talk to her about that.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t understand what makes a person a person?”

“If it talks to her, it’s a person.”

“If it...that sounds like something a child would think.” Something a child him _had_ thought, in fact.

“Exactly. She talks to that assaultron in Goodneighbor like it’s an actual woman. I’ve seen her giggle like some fresh-faced squire when Hancock starts flirting with her. She tells Codsworth she loves him...even got him a hat so he’d ‘feel special for his birthday’.” Danse shook his head. “As if a Mister Handy can feel anything...or even _have_ a birthday.”

“Hmm. That is troubling.” Troubling and insane.

“I asked Quinlan about it since he’s read a lot about pre-war America. He said he thinks people back then had no concept of the fragility of humankind, so they were able to be more philanthropic when it came to things like that. Apparently it was quite common back then for people to treat their dogs like children, have their cats inherit property...absolute madness.”

“Cats inherited property?”

“Yes, and vast sums of money, too.”

“Hells bells.”

“Exactly.”

Arthur sighed, “So she’s...eccentric, but a good soldier, is that your official opinion?”

Danse nodded, “Yes, I’d say that was accurate.”

He stood and stretched. The tightness was back in his shoulders. “Thank you, Paladin. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Anytime, Elder...if I may speak freely?”

“You may.”

“You seem a little tense.”

He chuckled, “It’s been something of a long day, Danse.”

“I’m having a...recreational engagement this evening with Knight Rath. Would you care to join us?”

Arthur mentally pulled up the Knight’s file. From what he remembered she was cute. Dark hair, light eyes. Flexible. Might be just the thing after such a troublesome day. “Sounds good, Paladin. What time?”

“2100, sir.”

“Your quarters?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then.”

The rest of the day passed slowly. Nothing but reports, reports, reports. He tried to sneak off for an impromptu inspection of the airport, but remembered at the last second that he still had to write a formal request to Bradley for supplies from the Minutemen in exchange for fusion cells for their silly muskets. It soured his mood further, but he managed to get the words out in a way that was formally polite. The letter could be delivered by Danse himself, since he seemed to have such a wonderful working relationship with the diminutive martinet.

Dinner came and went. He spent some time after considering his own chess board. It had been ages since he’d played anyone. Even longer since he’d played anyone he was sure wasn’t letting him win. He had no idea how Quinlan had started a game with Bradley. Did he just write and ask? Just send an opening move? Or had it started on one of her deliveries? Maybe she’d noticed the board and asked him.

He was lost in thought when the alarm clock on his dresser buzzed and startled him out of his woolgathering. Five minutes til. Showtime.

Danse’s door was, of course, closed. Arthur barely acknowledged the two Knights on guard duty and let himself in after a cursory knock. He closed it behind him and chuckled at the scene before him. Danse sat on the floor leaning back against his bed, Rath was kneeling on the bed over his face, writhing as the Paladin’s tongue worked her over.

“I could have sworn you said 2100, Paladin. Am I tardy?”

Danse peeked out from under Rath and smiled at him, “Not at all, sir. Just warming her up for you.”

“How thoughtful. Isn’t your ass cold sitting on the floor like that?” He quickly stripped out of his fatigues and smiled warmly at the panting Knight.

“That’s what I said, sir, but he insisted.”

Arthur sauntered over to them, “Good of you to think of your fellow man like that, Rath.”

“Thank you, sir.” She dropped forward onto her arms and wiggled enticingly at him.

He ran a hand over her ass and watched the way her soaking wet pussy glistened in the light. “Just warming her up, hmm? She looks pretty heated to me.” Danse chuckled but didn’t stop his efforts. “Refresh my memory, Knight. Have I had you before?”

She shook her head, “Just my mouth, sir.”

“Ah, right.” He remembered now. A little moment on the forecastle about a week after their arrival. She’d been enthusiastic, if a bit novice. Arthur moved closer and rubbed his cock against Danse’s chin for a moment, earning a lick in acknowledgement, before lining up with her pussy. “Then this will be a treat for both of us, won’t it?”

Rath tried to scoot back to meet him, but Danse’s massive hands held her in place. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He sank into her heat, pushing hard enough to stretch her in one slow movement. Since Danse had her hips well in hand, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back so that she ground harder on the Paladin’s face. His other hand found her breast and his fingers sank into the tender flesh as he started to rock against her. She moaned and trembled against him.

Arthur almost laughed outright. ‘Warming her up’, indeed. She was already close to coming and they’d barely even started. Since Danse had her pleasure under control, he allowed himself the freedom to do exactly as he pleased. His hips snapped against her as he fucked her hard and fast. One of Danse’s hands left her hips to cradle and massage his balls and he grinned against her neck, setting his teeth into the soft skin and grunting as he came. His come pumped into her and she shuddered suddenly in her own release, crying out and bucking against the Paladin’s face.

“Thank the Paladin for making you come, Knight. “ He whispered it low and guttural in her ear and she shivered again.

“Th-thank you, Paladin Danse.”

He slid out of her and released her hair, watching his friend hungrily lick the dripping come from her pussy while she made incoherent noises and fell forward on her arms again. “I must say, Danse, I do enjoy watching you work.” He couldn’t help but notice his friend’s cock looked a bit lonely, though, and he gently slid his foot along its length. “But, I think it’s time you had some fun yourself. Knight, let the Paladin up.”

The girl crawled weakly away from Danse and laid passively on the far side of the bed, still shaky and out of breath. Arthur grinned at her, “Don’t tell me you’re already tired, Rath?”

She shook her head, “No, sir. I can keep going.”

“Very good. Get up here, Danse. Let’s show the lady a good time, hmm?”

The paladin stood and they both took a moment to stare down at the girl before them. She really was pretty, with her darkly flushed skin and big hazel eyes. Her hair was tousled and wild, and so what if it wasn’t the same rich black that Knight Bradley’s was?

Arthur frowned at his own line of thinking. How the hell had Bradley got in there?

Danse slid into bed next to her, kissing her gently and running his hands soothingly down her side. “We would both understand if you aren’t up for more, Rath. You don’t have to impress anyone here.”

Rath nodded, resolute, “I understand, Paladin. Thank you, sir, but I can keep going.”

“But do you _want_ to keep going?”

Another nod, “Yes, sir. Absolutely.”

Danse laid back and got comfortable on the bed, giving him a ‘what can you do’ sort of look. “Alright then, Knight. Saddle up.” He held her hand and helped her settle over him, the head of his cock pressed against her still dripping pussy. She sucked in a breath and made a nervous kind of squeak and Arthur laughed.

“I take it you haven’t been with Danse yet, either, Knight?”

She looked back at him with wide eyes, “No, sir.”

He smiled kindly at her, “What a brave girl you are.” His hands skirted along her back and he reached around her, pulling her against him and gently kneading her breasts. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you.”

Rath trembled ever-so-slightly, “Thank you, sir.”

Danse’s hands settled on her hips, “Relax, Rath.” He waited for her to nod before he rubbed her back and forth against cock, coating himself in her slick juices.

Arthur watched from over her shoulder, nuzzling against her neck and murmuring words of encouragement. Watching Danse take someone for the first time was always an entertaining experience. Seeing a person go from excited to nervous to humbled to rapturous never failed to remind him of his own first time.

Eventually, she started twisting just a bit, rubbing herself harder against Danse’s length and whimpering needfully. He repositioned her and began the long, slow slide into her thoroughly prepared body. She shuddered as the head of his cock breached her and Arthur reached down to helpfully rub her clit, while Danse continued to slowly but surely impale her. It took a few minutes, but finally he was fully sheathed within her. They paused for a moment, each man taking careful measure of her breathless panting and running calming hands along her tense body. Whatever came next would depend solely on her reaction.

In time, she took a large breath and leaned forward, out of Arthur’s arms and into Danse’s, kissing him and squirming until he flexed up deeper into her.

She broke away from their kiss and looked back at Arthur. “He’s so big, sir.” Danse’s lips found her breast and she moaned softly as he suckled gently.

His hands drifted down her hips and he pulled her ass further open so he could have a better view of the cock splitting her. “That he is, Knight.”

Her head fell back and she rocked against him, her pussy flexing and grasping. “It feels so good, sir.”

Arthur grinned and ran his fingertips lightly over Danse’s balls, tickling enough that he involuntarily bucked into her while she cried out. “Does it? Show me, Rath.”

She braced her arms on either side of Danse and slid herself up, up, up before grinding all the way back down, whimpering when she got to the base of his cock. Arthur grabbed her by the waist and held her still while Danse surged up into her, mercilessly working her pussy now that he knew she could safely accommodate his immense size. Rath collapsed and lay limp, mumbling words against Danse’s chest.

He chuckled and watched her drench the Paladin’s cock, “What was that, Knight?”

Her head turned so she could see him and her eyes were glazed over with lust and a drunken kind of bliss. “Please, don’t stop. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, sir.”

One of Danse’s hands slid around to grab a handful of her ass as he pummeled her. “She feels amazing, Arthur.” He grunted as her pussy spasmed around him. “Just keeps coming.”

“Well, you do have that effect on people, Danse.”

The paladin grinned up at him, “I think she could take another.”

Knight Rath’s eyes, which had been closed in blissful overstimulation, popped open. “What?”

Arthur eyed her backside doubtfully, “Think there’s room?”

“Always room for one more.”

“Wh-what?” Rath tried to rouse herself but failed.

Danse wrapped his arms around her and shushed her gently, “Shh, it’s alright. The elder said we’d take care of you and we will.”

She turned her head to stare incredulously at Arthur and he smiled, “I never break my word, Knight. Don’t you trust us?”

Her face went a little pink, more embarrassed to have her loyalty questioned than anything else. “Yes, sir.” She settled down against Danse and nuzzled against him, seeking comfort. He petted and soothed, his hips rocking gently into her while Arthur got the oil he knew Danse kept in his bedside table.

Arthur applied the oil to himself first and then drizzled it over her hole, before rubbing gently with his thumb. “Have you ever had your ass taken, Knight?” She nodded, still cuddled against Danse. “And did you like it?” Another nod. “Then you have nothing to worry about, Rath.” His thumb breached her ass and she shuddered.

“Yes, sir.”

He took his time stretching her a bit. With Danse’s cock taking up so much space, it was already going to be a tight fit, and there was no sense in turning what could be an amazing experience for her into a disaster. Finally satisfied, he crawled up into position and grinned at Danse before rubbing the head of his cock against her ass.

“Last chance to bail out, Knight.”

She shook her head, “No, sir.”

“Good girl.” He pressed into her and Danse paused his thrusting, buried to the hilt in her pussy, and kissed her deeply, muting her shocked cry as the two men filled her to the limit. Arthur had to raise up a bit to slide the last few inches in, but it was worth it to feel Danse’s cock pulsing through her pussy against his own. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Danse was watching her face carefully, “You alright, Rath?”

“It...it’s a lot.”

He brushed the hair off her face and his amused eyes briefly flicked to Arthur’s, “That doesn’t answer my question. Are you alright?”

She winced a little and moved, widening her stance a bit. “I’m alright.”

“You’re doing very well for your first time.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Arthur tried to not roll his eyes. Danse had always been overly gentle with their playmates. He pulled back and then pressed in a little harder this time. “She’s fine, Paladin. She likes being fucked between us, don’t you, Knight?”

She shivered and nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“See?”

Danse chuckled and resumed his through examination of Knight Rath’s mouth while his hands skirted along her sweat coated skin. He stayed still while Arthur worked her ass, groaning at the tight friction, his fingers sinking into the flesh of her hips. Once the initial novelty of the sensation had worn off, he settled into a steady rhythm and tapped Danse’s leg with his hand, signaling him to begin moving.

He couldn’t even begin to count the number of soldiers they’d fucked together like this. They moved in perfect synch, overwhelming her body with sensations until she was eagerly moving with them, rambling expletives and increasingly desperate pleas for more tumbling from her mouth. She’d be singing a different tune come morning, when all her muscles ached and she still had to attend to her duties, but her ignorance about these things was part of why Arthur was always so happy to find a new playmate to share.

This was, however, Danse’s night. He’d only been invited as an afterthought. It wouldn’t be polite to overstay his welcome.

He reached forward and sank a hand into her hair, right by the base of her neck, pulling her back and peeling her off of Danse’s chest. She bucked hard when the angle of their thrusting changed and Danse’s cock was forcefully pressed against her g-spot.

Arthur wrapped an arm around her, holding her throat to keep her facing forward. Knight Rath seemed the affectionate sort, and he wasn’t interested in playing tonsil hockey with her...that was Danse’s job.

“Look at what you’re doing to Paladin Danse, Rath. You’re making him feel so good with your hot little pussy.” He growled against her ear and smiled wickedly when she whimpered and tightened further around his cock. “You’ve been such a good girl for us tonight.”

“T-thank you, sir. Have I...made you feel good, too?”

His eyes went to Danse’s. He never answered dangerous questions like that. Far too easy to get sentimental. His friend answered for him.

“You’ve made Elder Maxson feel amazing, Knight.” Danse’s hands ghosted along her breasts and rubbed the nipples with rough thumbs and she all but melted in Arthur’s arms.

“I want to feel you come one more time for me, Rath, then I’m going to fill this sweet ass of yours with my come, alright?” His other hand left her hip and skirted along her belly until his fingers found her clit, already swollen and throbbing. Danse helpfully took over holding her hips in place while she all but thrashed between them.

“Oh, God, yes. Yes, please, sir. Please?”

Arthur chuckled as the pressure within her built quickly. This one was definitely getting added to their roster of regulars. He ravaged her body, holding nothing back and grunting in satisfaction when her body finally gave in and started pulsing rhythmically around his and Danse’s cocks. A few thrusts more and he was emptying his balls into her, filling her with his seed and feeling it gush out around him and down her thighs.

He let her fall back against Danse and slowly pulled out. He’d left quite a mess in his wake and glanced up at his friend. “She’s a bit...slippery now.”

The Paladin continued to pump into her, even as she was nearly incoherent, overwhelmed by pleasure. “That’s alright. She’ll be grateful for the extra lubrication later on.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple at her weakly distressed whimper and Arthur laughed.

“I’ll leave you to it, then, friend.” He slipped his fatigues back on and gave her ass one final, cordial pat. “Good night, Knight Rath. You’ve been a delight.” She could only make a tiny squeak in response and he laughed as he left, back to his chamber to sleep alone, as he preferred.

Sleep proved elusive though. For some reason, he almost felt more restless than he had before his recreational excursions. He tried reading, but that, too, was surprisingly difficult. He felt unsettled, distracted.

He still couldn’t believe his mind had somehow brought that obnoxious little minx into his playtime with Danse and Rath. He couldn’t even picture her properly naked...or _clean,_ for that matter. And with how prissy and defiant she often was in his presence, he definitely couldn’t imagine her actually having sex that wasn’t anything but purely utilitarian in nature...and _that_ was only because he knew she’d had a child.

He didn’t want to think about Bradley. What he _really_ wanted to do was jump in his power armor and launch himself off the Prydwen. Not that he could without the entire Brotherhood force immediately mobilizing behind him, but still, it was a pleasant thought. There was nothing quite like freefall to flood the senses with adrenaline and bring everything into perfect focus.

He finally settled on taking a hot shower, hoping the pounding water would loosen his tense muscles and finally clear his mind enough for sleep...and if his last conscious thoughts were of how satisfying it would be to drag Bradley into a shower and scrub the wasteland filth from her skin before finding a better use for her mouth than squawking at him, it was no one’s business but his own.

 

**_Preamble, Part III_ **

 

It was early July, on a night that once, long ago, had heralded the dawn of a new era, that the world was once again forever altered.

Arthur was in a rare sound sleep when he was suddenly jolted out of bed by a shuddering rumble tearing through the Prydwen. His first thought was that Knight Bradley had finally made good on her threat, despite their mostly cordial formal correspondence and newly hammered out trade agreement.

He had just managed to find his footing when the awful screeching sound of metal being pushed to its limit rang in the air and another jerk of the ship had him falling back on his bed. He waited, listening carefully for a minute, before deciding to risk it and he finally reached the intercom.

“Kells, status report. What the hell was that?”

It took a minute, but eventually the captain answered. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Engine three is down.”

“How?”

“EM pulse, sir. It almost knocked the other three offline. We’re just bringing it back up now.”

“EM pulse from what?”

“Not entirely sure, sir...there was an explosion from the west.”

Arthur grabbed his coat and headed for the observation deck. There was a smouldering crater in the distance, right about where they’d long suspected the Institute was. The C.I.T. ruins. He stared at the rising smoke in disbelief.

She’d done it. The little General had done it.

Now the only question was, had she survived?

Danse finally appeared and joined him at the window. “Well, I’ll be goddamned.”

“Indeed.”

“Do you think it was Bradley?”

“Bradley or they finally destroyed themselves.”

Danse looked around, “I thought there was a radio in here...ah, there it is...” He fiddled with the knobs for a moment before ancient, tinny patriotic music sounded. “If it was her, they’ll announce it.”

Suddenly a voice cut into the broadcast. “This is Radio Freedom, The Voice of the Minutemen! All is well, Commonwealth! The Institute has been destroyed. I repeat, the Institute has been destroyed! I can confirm that our own General Bradley and Lieutenant Garvey led the charge into the underbelly of the old C.I.T. ruins and have successfully blown them sky high! God bless us, one and all!” The music continued until Danse clicked it off.

“Well, there you go. Bradley did it, sir.”

“Think she survived?”

Danse continued staring at the crater and took a minute carefully considering before answering. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll see.”

Arthur looked away from the window, suddenly in no mood to celebrate. There were repairs to be made, after all. “Report to the Castle. They’ll know before anyone else.”

“Yes, sir.”

A weeklong celebration aboard the Prydwen immediately broke out once engine three was brought back online. Lots of talk about the next mission among the Knights, while Scribes eagerly divided up duties for the salvage operation that would no doubt be starting.

Just as soon as Elder Maxson gave the word.

Except he wasn’t giving the word.

The elder seemed to be spending most of his days pacing on the command deck. With Paladin Danse in the field, it finally fell to Cade to recommend he get some sleep. The medical officer calmly endured the blistering lecture he received for daring to suggest such a thing, but later noted in his log that the Elder had almost seemed relieved that someone had told him to go to his quarters.

Danse showed back up almost four days later with an annoyingly talkative brunette in a red coat trailing behind him, asking a million questions that no one seemed interested in answering. He sent word for Maxson to meet him down on the tarmac, wisely deciding against taking the intrepid reporter onboard their secure vessel, and settled in to wait just inside the gate.

Arthur finally got to take that long jump off the Prydwen and jogged through the airport, ignoring the salutes and cheers, exiting his power armor only when Danse came into view.

“Paladin! Is she alive? Did she make it?”

Danse held up a hand, “She’s fine, Elder. Ah, this is --”

Suddenly the spunky brunette was right in his face. “Piper Wright, Publick Occurrences. I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask you, Elder. What are you thoughts of the recent events? Are you upset the Minutemen stole your glory? Now that they’ve completed your job for you, are you leaving now or later?”

He stared down at her, blinking at the flurry of inquiries. “Ah...no comment.” His eyes went back to Danse. “Who is this and why is she here?”

The paladin sighed heavily, “This is Piper. Civilian. She’s Bradley’s best friend. Said she had a letter that she was supposed to deliver to you and no one else.” Long-term suffering and weariness was written on every line of his face. “She was quite insistent.”

Piper just grinned up at him, “Yup, that’s me. Insistent.”

Arthur rubbed at his forehead and held out his hand, “Alright, then. Hand it over.”

She scoffed at him, “Nope. I’m supposed to read it to you first. That’s how Blue wanted it.”

Blue? Descriptive if vague. “Fine. Have at it.”

She rummaged through her pockets for a minute. “Hang on, it was just...ah. Got it.” She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and he wasn’t surprised at all that it had sooty little fingerprints all over it. At least he knew for sure it was from Ella. “Alright, here we go. Dear Elder Maxson, recent events have rendered me unfit for duty and I must insist on taking a temporary leave of absence from the Brotherhood of Steel. If this is unacceptable to you, please consider this my resignation. Thank you. Yours, Elinor Bradley.” Piper gave him a dirty look, “So, what, she saves the world and now you’re gonna fire her?”

“I...no one has any intention of firing her.” He snatched the letter out of her hands and read it again for himself. “Unfit for duty? What does that mean? Is she injured?” Danse just shrugged and he turned back to Piper. “Well? Is she?”

Piper just put her hands in her pockets and considered him through narrowed eyes. “What’s it to you, buddy?”

“She’s my soldier, Ms. Wright. I deserve to know if she’s been hurt.”

She chewed on her lip for a minute, considering how to answer. “Okay, fine. She’s fine. She’s just got...a lot to deal with right now. Anymore than that is her business to tell.”

The woman was infuriating, but clearly a good friend. “Did she find her son?”

Piper rolled her eyes, “That’s _her business,_ isn’t it?”

He did his best to keep his irritation off his face. “Where is she...convalescing at?” The girl just shrugged at him. “You don’t know, or you aren’t going to tell me?” She just grinned and shrugged again. Arthur wasn’t sure why Ella had felt the need to send this emissary on her behalf. He turned his attention back to Danse. “Did you see her, in person? Did she seem alright?”

Danse rubbed the back of his neck, “No, sir. I didn’t. Piper was waiting for me at the Castle. I guess Knight Bradley must have assumed we’d look for her there.”

Piper smiled a shark’s smile at the men, “Yeah, Blue’s real sharp.”

Arthur wondered if this girl was actually the best person Bradley could think of to send, or if this was some kind of deliberate provocation. He decided to take the high road, as always. “Thank you, civilian, for delivering this message. We can reprovision you and then offer you an escort if you’d like.”

“Nah, not necessary. I'm a big girl. Take care of myself. See you around, Pal-a-can Danse. Try not to chafe too much.” She started to walk off out of the compound when a thought crossed Arthur’s mind.

“Wait, Ms. Wright.” He waited until she turned, an eyebrow raised. “I do have a statement you can print in your little paper, if you want.”

She blinked at him before grinning, “Yeah? That’d be great!” Out came a notebook and pen that, oddly enough, reminded him of the first time he’d met Bradley. “Shoot!”

Arthur took a deep breath and calmed his mind. This statement had to come off as broad enough to be relatable to everyone, but specific enough so the one person he wanted to hear it would actually hear it. “The Brotherhood of Steel is both proud and humbled by the accomplishments of General Bradley. We stand ready to aid the Minutemen in the aftermath of the Institute's fall and hope we can continue to build a relationship of mutual respect and benefit.” There. That should do it.

Piper looked less than impressed. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“She takes down the boogeyman of the Commonwealth and that’s your response?”

“Yes.”

She slid the pen behind her ear and shoved the notebook back in her pocket. “Uh-huh. I get it now.”

Arthur frowned. He’d thought it was pretty good for being off the cuff. “Get what?”

“Why you drive her fucking nuts.” She shook her head and headed back out. “See you boys around. And hey, if you’re ever in Diamond City and feel the urge to look me up, don’t.”

He stared at her back and only turned to Danse when she was far enough away to not overhear. _“I_ drive _her_ nuts?”

The paladin chuckled, _“Fucking_ nuts, I believe it was, sir. And this is the first I’m hearing of it.”

He huffed and looked over the smudged letter again. “At least we know she’s okay.”

“Was there ever a doubt?”

The piece of paper got carefully folded and he slid it into one of his inner pockets. “Of course not, Paladin. She’s a Brotherhood Knight, after all. It would take a lot more than one thermonuclear explosion to take her out. Come on, we’ve got some planning to do.” There was the scavenging efforts of the ruins, they could reattempt contact with the midwestern Brotherhood, word could now be spread to the West Coast and the Citadel that the Institute had been defeated; and that a Knight had lead the charge.


	2. Article 1 - A Formal Congratulations

Arthur had always considered himself a patient sort of man. The kind of Elder who could calmly and thoughtfully steer the Brotherhood toward greatness. Becoming leader at the tender age of sixteen had taught him to keep a tight lid on his more hasty thoughts and feelings. He was in charge of the welfare of hundreds of people and he felt that weighty responsibility with every decision he made. Capriciousness would only sow further strife and discord among his Brothers and Sisters.

And so, when Knight Bradley disappeared for her well-earned and entirely reasonable leave of absence, he hardly noticed it. There was so much to do around the Prydwen and the airport, after all. Construction had begun on a tidy little community that he’d christened Bosville. He’d also approved a small expeditionary force to head west in search of the illusive Midwestern chapter. New troops had arrived from the Citadel to replace the losses they’d sustained in the Commonwealth. The Prydwen was running like a charm and they were working on a new design to shield the engines from any further EMPs. Cade and the Minutemen’s Doctor Curie had managed to finally synthesize that mutfruit enzyme and they now had a new, more powerful kind of stimpak. He’d had Quinlan include the recipe and instructions in his weekly transmission to the West Coast Brotherhood and had already received a glowing report of its success.

All in all, not bad work for just a month.

The Elder was not happy, though, and everyone knew it. Every day that passed, he grew more agitated and pushed everyone around him harder and harder until finally a young Scribe broke down in hysterics in the medbay. She had not slept in three days in her desperate desire to finish a simple field report for the Elder.

After that, Paladin Danse, Captain Kells and Knight-Captain Cade had an unofficial-official meeting with him, whereupon it was put forward that he should no longer directly interact with any of the younger staff and instead step back and allow his senior staff to do their jobs.

He appreciated the balls it had taken them to confront him over his rash behavior and so he gracefully acquiesced to their request. It left him with a lot of free time, though, which he did _not_ appreciate.

Even pleasures of the flesh had lost their allure for him. Knights and Scribes alike murmured unhappily about the fact that the Elder’s door was now closed, all day, every day. Even Paladin Danse had, for the first time ever, been turned away from an evening of diversion, a fact which he shared with no one.

Arthur Maxson, was, in a word, vexed.

He’d taken to listening to Radio Freedom almost constantly whenever he was in his quarters. Their musical selection was lacking, but every once in a while, they played classical music. Always a single piano, beautifully played, with no accompaniment. He wasn’t sure where they’d found the holos, but it made for a welcome break from the obnoxiously nationalistic stuff they usually played.

Not that he was listening for the music. He’d started recording their little alerts, jotting down details and then checking the locations for active Brotherhood patrols. He was hoping that at some point, Knight Bradley herself would show up to one of these emergencies and it would be included in some random field report. It hadn’t happened yet, but it could, and that was enough to keep him listening.

It wasn’t that he was particularly interested in Knight Bradley, of course. It was just that she still needed to be debriefed on what she’d seen in the Institute and he had a promotion that he wanted to personally bestow upon her for her amazing accomplishments. That was all.

It had absolutely nothing to do with how some of the older members, those who’d lived through the Lyons era, kept whispering about her being the second coming of Sarah Lyons herself. (Which was ridiculous, in his personal opinion, for several reasons, the chief of which being Bradley had been born two hundred years _before_ Sarah’s grandmother.) Nor did it have anything to do with the fact that she kept traipsing through his dreams, as irritatingly disobedient and inexplicably enticing as ever.

He was idly sketching a new design for a power armor helmet when the announcement finally came through. The General was, once again, ‘in residence’ at the Castle. Arthur was out his door before the music even started back up. Paladin Danse just barely caught him on his way out.

“Elder Maxson! Where are you going?” His old friend frowned at the excitement on Arthur’s face. After seeing him so down for so long, this abrupt change in attitude was slightly off-putting.

“The Castle. Knight Bradley is back.” He didn’t slow down, heading for the flight deck to commandeer a vertibird. He’d fly the damn thing himself if he had to.

“The Castle?” Danse hurried along behind him. “Sir, if you’ll just wait a moment, I can assemble a proper escort.”

“Not necessary. I am more than capable of keeping myself alive in the field.”

“Yes, sir, but --”

“I’m not going into a warzone, Paladin. The Minutemen are our allies. I’ll be perfectly safe at their base.”

“At least allow me to come with you.”

He hopped up into the nearest bird and finally paused to look back. “You don’t have to, Danse. I’ll be fine.”

“I want to, sir. She’s...well, I’m responsible for her, as her sponsor.”

It was a piss poor excuse but he nodded, recognizing the worry behind the words for what it was. “Right you are. Come on.”

Danse put his helmet on and climbed up next to Arthur while the pilot, who’d been helpfully napping in the cockpit, got them prepped for takeoff. “Think she made it through unscathed?”

He didn’t want to speculate about all the different ways ‘unfit for duty’ could be interpreted. He’d already dwelt on it for close to forty days. “I guess we’ll see.”

They ultimately decided to set down in an old parking lot, almost a half mile from the Castle itself. His official reasoning was he didn’t want to alarm anyone. The unofficial reason was he needed the extra walk to school himself for whatever waited for them inside the walls. Piper Wright had said she was physically fine, that she just ‘had a lot to deal with’, but until he saw her for himself, his mind kept manufacturing the worst possible scenarios.

The walk was indeed calming, with the rough summer sea crashing against the shoreline and the peace that came from being so close to a military stronghold. Danse quietly followed behind him, for once not engaging in idle chit chat. Arthur appreciated his friend’s exceptional situational awareness.

Sentries by the main gate nodded in acknowledgement as the men entered the compound and Arthur paused, just inside the door, watching the inner workings of the Minutemen for the first time.

There was a radio shack right in the middle of the courtyard. The home of Radio Freedom, no doubt. Settlers and soldiers alike milled about attending various duties, and the sweet sound of children laughing and running through the halls of the ancient fort, echoing off the stone walls, filled his ears.

Danse finally spoke, “It’s nice, isn’t it, sir? A real community.”

“How many souls?”

“Last time I was here, just under fifty.”

“Impressive.” He hoped one day Bosville could be such a settlement. Secure, prosperous, a real home for families loyal to the Brotherhood.

An outraged scream tore through the air and had both men flipping the safety’s off their sidearms before they noticed no one else seemed fussed about it. If anything, amusement and outright laughter was rippling through the air.

“What the hell--” Arthur’s musing was cut short when a very wet, very soapy German Shepherd went streaking through the courtyard, dodging around Minutemen and pausing only to roll in the dirt every chance it got.

“Dogmeat! Bad puppy! Bad! You come back here this instant!” Bradley was right on his tail, wearing a soaking wet Nuka-Cola shirt and sliding through the loose dirt in her efforts to keep pace with the terrorized dog. No one seemed interested in actually helping, though they did occasionally throw their hands up in the air when Dogmeat would dart towards them to shoo him away. Finally she got the creature pinned in a corner and tackled him, coming up covered in mud and dried grass and holding the bedraggled dog in her arms. “I can’t believe you! You _have_ to have a bath!” She hefted him up and across her shoulders while he whined anxiously. “It’s not _my_ fault! Who was it who decided to roll in rotting mole rat, hmm?”

Impressive agility aside, Arthur was starting to understand why she was always so dirty. He stepped from the shadow of the main gate and Danse politely coughed behind him, causing her to finally look their way and notice them. Her eyes went huge and her mouth briefly dropped open before she grinned.

“Hey, Danse! Elder Maxson! You’re off the Prydwen! I didn’t know you did that.”

Whatever pleasantries he’d planned immediately died on the tip of his tongue but thankfully, Danse stepped up to bat.

“We were concerned, Knight Bradley. It’s been over a month since any of us have heard from you.”

“Oh. Oh, right.” She winced a little. “Sorry about that. I’ve been...busy.” Dogmeat seemed to sense her inattention and wiggled hard, almost knocking her off balance. “Hang on, lemme just…”, she looked around and finally scanned the walls. “Hey! Mac!”

A skinny man with an impressive sniper rifle leaned over from his post on the wall, “Yeah, boss?”

“Can you finish Dogmeat’s bath for me?”

“No.”

“RJ!”

“Not happening, El. Piss off.”

She made a face at him and turned her attention to a nearby crowd of children playing with some chalk. “Hey, Dunkaroo! How would you like to help your daddy give Dogmeat a bath?”

A tiny boy with big dark eyes and scruffy brown hair immediately shot up, “You mean it?”

“Sure do, squirt!”

The boy waved wildly at the sniper. “Daddy! Did you hear? We get to give Dogmeat a bath!”

Mac glared down at Ella, and set his rifle aside, “Yeah, I heard. That’s a bitc-dirty move, boss.”

She shrugged, “Effective though. Get Duncan his own puppy and he won’t be so keen to play with mine.”

The man trudged down the stairs and took the miserable dog off her shoulders, “We’ve talked about this. He’s not old enough yet.”

“Weren’t you mayor or something at his age?”

He just gave her a flat look and then swept a critical eye over Arthur. “Should I uh...send for someone?”

Ella brushed the dirt off her raggedy pants, or tried to. “What? Oh, no. They’re fine. I can handle them.” The sniper rolled his eyes and walked off, excited little boy in tow. She finally turned her full attention to them. “Sorry about that. Now then, what is it you wanted?”

“Just to check in with you.”

“Status report.”

They spoke over each other and Arthur gave Danse an exasperated look. The Elder of the Brotherhood wouldn’t go to all this trouble for something as silly as a casual check in.

She looked between them and chuckled, “Okay...how about we go to the conference room, then? It’s hot as balls out here.”

“That sounds fine, Knight.” There was a piece of mud clinging to her skin just above her eyebrow. She clearly hadn’t noticed it, and he was worried it was going to fall into her eye. To his own astonishment, his hand acted of its own accord and reached out, carefully wiping it off her face.

From how wide her eyes went at his action, he wasn’t the only one astonished. “Um...actually, I guess I should probably clean up a little first.” She turned to the Mister Handy hovering nearby. “Ah, there you are, Codsworth.”

“Right behind you, mum, as always.”

“Can you please escort Paladin Danse and Elder Maxson to the conference room? I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Right-o, Miss Ella.” It hovered closer and bobbed an eye at them. “This way, if you please, gentlemen.” He floated away and they followed him into the cool darkness of the Castle proper.

“I wonder if all her men are that insubordinate.”

Danse chuckled, “That was MacCready. Mercenary. I don’t think he’s technically a Minuteman.”

“Still, it’s improper for him to speak to her that way in her own...Castle.”

“Knight Bradley doesn’t put the same stock in discipline as you do, sir.”

“Clearly.”

The robot lead them to a cavernous sort of room with a large, ancient table surrounded by chairs. “Please have a seat, sirs. Would you care for any refreshments?”

“No.” Arthur almost went to the head chair but sat next to it instead. Old habits.

“Lemonade is fine, Codsworth.”

“Yes, Paladin Danse. At once, sir.” He whirred out of the room and Arthur sighed irritably.

“Was that necessary? Now he’s going to come back.”

“He was going to anyway, sir. Trust me, when dealing with Codsworth, it’s better to just let him do what he’s going to do. At least this way we might _only_ be brought lemonade.” Danse walked to a far corner and existed his power armor before sitting down across from Arthur. “She seems alright to me.”

“Physically, maybe.”

“You think...something traumatic happened?”

“Possibly. I didn’t see a kid out there that looked like hers, did you?”

He shook his head, “No, I didn’t. Should we ask if she found the boy?”

“You ask. It might seem...inappropriate if it comes from me.” Now that he was actually here, on her turf, he felt uncomfortable and out of place. Maybe he should have just sent Danse after all.

Codsworth reappeared, carrying two trays. “Here you are, gentlemen! Just the thing for a hot day! Lemonade and our very own homegrown watermelon.” He set the tray with the pitcher of lemonade and three glasses in the middle of the table first. “Would either of you care for a piece?”

The bowl was suddenly right up in Arthur’s face and he instinctively leaned back away from it. Robots had made him uneasy since he’d been chased out of the lab by Rothchild for talking to Liberty Prime as a child. “No. I’m good.”

Danse took a piece, “Thanks, Codsworth.”

“You’re most welcome, Paladin Danse. And may I say, it’s so very good to see you again.”

“Thanks. You, too. Were you ah...actively involved in the operation against the Institute?”

“Oh, _no,_ sir. Perish the thought! Mum had me stay here with Curie. I assisted in triage.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you, sir. Will that be all?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

They both watched the robot zip out of the room before Arthur spoke. “A Mister Handy doing triage? What was she thinking?” He shuddered, thinking of old Sawbones back at the Citadel. One of his first acts as Elder had been to finally shut down the blatantly anti-human robot and replace him with a proper medic.

“Bit dangerous. Maybe they just called it triage? To spare his feelings.”

“Robots do not have feelings, Paladin.”

“I know that, and you know that, but Bradley doesn’t know that.”

He sighed, “Right.” He’d almost forgotten her eccentricities.

A few minutes passed before finally they could hear footsteps approaching, clearly running. Ella slid into the room, narrowing avoiding colliding with the door and smiled at them, “Hey! Hi! Sorry for the delay.” She was a little too breathless and flushed for Arthur’s liking and the way her shorts made her legs seem impossibly long had him averting his eyes, suddenly desperate for a distraction.

“Lemonade? Your robot brought it.”

“Oh, thank God.” She flopped in the seat at the head of the table and poured a glass, downing it completely before pouring herself another. “You know what I really miss? Air conditioning.”

Danse chuckled, “You seem in good health...and spirits. Successful mission?”

“What? You didn’t see the giant explosion?”

Arthur silently pushed the bowl of watermelon towards her and focused on the wall just behind her head when he spoke. “We did. It was very impressive. How’d you do it, Knight?”

She bit into a piece and munched it thoughtfully, “Exploited their weaknesses. Pretty simple stuff, really.”

“I wasn’t aware the Institute had weaknesses.”

Ella laughed, “Yeah, neither were they. They’d built this giant reactor...it wasn’t too hard to sabotage it and then plant fusion charges.”

“How’d you get in?”

She shrugged, “Old forgotten tunnels. Had to get past a few gates but, after that, it was pretty smooth sailing.”

“And you didn’t think to call on your brothers and sisters for assistance?” That was the part that had rankled him the most.

An uncomfortable look crossed her face, “With all due respect, Elder Maxson, no. My top priority after the destruction of the Institute was making sure those who were evacuated were safe...including the liberated synths. I didn’t feel the Brotherhood would have been an appropriate choice for a mission like that.”

“You...liberated the synths?”

“Yes, I did. They were crying out for freedom and I had a responsibility to answer.”

Arthur finally stared straight at her, beguiling cleanliness be damned, “Are you insane? You unleashed those monstrosities on the Commonwealth?”

“They’re miracles, not monstrosities.” Her voice had gone soft even as her eyes were hard little chips of ice.

Danse shook his head in disbelief, “Ella, you can’t possibly believe that.”

She glanced at him and smiled somewhat sadly, “I’m afraid I do.”

“They’re...robots disguised as humans. Who knows what sort of destructive fail-safe they’ve been programmed with.”

Ella turned back to him, “They’re not robots. Codsworth is a robot. Synths are...manufactured humans with altered DNA and a shiny implant in their heads. They’re completely different.”

“Where are they?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.” They stared at each other in hostile silence before she spoke again. “I understand, of course, if this means I am no longer welcome among your ranks.”

Somehow that was almost worse than her being so reckless. “No...no, I’m sure you made the best decisions you could at the time.”

Danse shook his head, “Elder --”

“It’s...fine, Paladin. She wasn’t acting as a Brotherhood soldier, but as the General of the Minutemen. We weren’t there and it wasn’t our operation. While her actions certainly were not the actions we would have taken, we’ll simply have to...agree to disagree on this point.” He fixed his friend with a stern stare. “And it will not be mentioned in any report, are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.” He looked confused by the Elder’s sudden disinterest in the eradication of all synth life, but recovered quickly. “Were you successful in finding your son?”

She gave him a small smile, “Yes, I was.”

“Is he here? I’d like to meet the lad.” Danse and Ella both turned to stare at him in disbelief and he shrugged. “He’s the son of one of our most accomplished soldiers, after all.”

Ella chuckled, “You aren’t going to try to recruit him as a squire, are you?”

“Is he that old already?”

She nodded, “Yes, Shaun’s ten.”

Danse frowned, “Ten? So he grew up in the Institute?”

“He did.” She frowned at her lemonade before taking a sip. “But he doesn’t remember much of anything, I’m afraid.”

Arthur shook his head sadly, “Traumatized, no doubt. The bastards.”

She made a noncommittal noise and stared into space for a moment. “I’m sure Shaun would love to meet you both, but he’s not here. He’s at home.”

“I thought this was your home?”

“No, no, I live just across the water on Spectacle Island now. It’s...quiet there. Shaun isn’t used to life on the surface yet so it just seemed the smart thing to do.”

Danse nodded, “Then we’re lucky we caught you.”

She smiled, “You are! But even if you hadn’t, there’s always the ferry. It runs all day until seven o’clock. A lot of our civilian staff work here but live there. Mac and his little boy are our neighbors, actually. Duncan and Shaun get on like a house on fire.”

Ah, yes, Mac. The mouthy, attractive mercenary from before. Arthur wasn’t sure why, but the idea of such a man living next door to Knight Bradley made him very, very annoyed. They needed to get back to less irksome matters. “So, what can you tell us of the Institute? We’ve begun salvage operations, but we’re flying blind right now, Knight.”

“Right. Well...the higher the level, the older it is. They got started right in the basement of C.I.T. and each generation expanded their operations further down. At the very bottom is whatever is left of the reactor, of course. Above that you’ll have Advanced Systems, Synth Retention, Bioscience and Robotics. Advanced Systems handled weapon production. Bioscience is probably your best bet if you’re looking for things like genetically modified crops and the like, but I’d be careful. They had an FEV lab down there, too...it was inactive by the time we got there, but I’m sure it still poses some kind of biohazard.”

“Were they the source of super mutants in the Commonwealth?”

She nodded, “Yes, I’m afraid so. It appeared that the humans they kidnapped to be replaced were often used for their experiments. There was also evidence that they experimented on their own kind if they were convicted of some crime.”

“Good God. That’s horrific.” Danse looked like he was going to be sick.

“Yes, it is. They were given the option of exile or experimentation and no one ever seemed to chose exile.” She shrugged, “Of course, they were all terrified of surface life and it’s not like anyone ever _really_ got exiled. You just got teleported to the middle of nowhere and then shot by a Courser in the back of the head.” Ella shook her head, “It's all such a waste. All of it. Think of what they could have accomplished if even one of their Directors had been a decent sort.”

Arthur nodded, “It’s good you were able to save your boy so young, then. Who knows what kind of monster he could have grown into under their tutelage.”

Her eyes met his and then slid away, “Who, indeed.” She suddenly sat straighter in her chair and perked up. “Oh! Actually, I am glad you’re both here! I...well, you’re going to get an official invite by courier and everything, but now I can tell you in person, too! We’re going to have a little celebration in a few weeks and you’re both invited!”

“A celebration?”

“Yes, a Victory Ball. Preston is very excited about it. He’s been reading all about Revolutionary War era parties for a week at least.”

Danse looked confused again, “A ball? So...dancing?”

She nodded, “Yes, dancing, socializing...we’ll have a buffet, too, plus all our shops and the restaurant will be open. We have a band coming in from Goodneighbor, including Magnolia. It’s a real coup for us to get her. She usually never performs outside the Third Rail.” Ella leaned towards them in a conspiratorial kind of way and grinned. “Preston’s very excited about that, too.”

Arthur vaguely remembered hearing of his parents attending something like that out west. “That sounds nice.”

“Doesn’t it? The thing is though, it’s open to _all_ of our allies.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “And?”

“And that means...mixed company.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She sighed, “That means Mayor Hancock will be there, representing Goodneighbor. I’m sure Nick Valentine will be in the Diamond City delegation. We’ll even have a super mutant in attendance, although I doubt he’ll actually attempt dancing. Strong is more into observing people than interacting with them.”

What a terrifying group of freaks. “Ah.”

“So I wanted to let you all know, in person, that if you decline the invitation, I would completely understand. I know you aren’t comfortable with people like that and I don’t want anyone feeling like they have to attend. It’s purely a non-necessary diplomatic function. I won’t be offended or anything.”

“I don’t think it would be appropriate for the Elder to attend something like that.”

“I’ll be there.” They’d spoken over each other once again and this time Arthur didn’t bother giving Danse another look. He just kept talking. “It would be good for your people to see we can be...reasonable and civilized when the need arises.”

She smiled cheekily, “But only when the need arises, right?”

He chose to ignore the bait. “When will this be taking place?”

“The end of August. Hopefully by then it won’t be so hot at night. We have fans and things, but I’d really rather not have to use them.”

“That sounds fine. I’ll clear my calendar.”

“Great! That’s...great. Um…”

“What is it now, Knight?”

“Well, it’s going to be black tie so...do you have anything appropriate?”

Arthur was fairly certain he’d never worn anything inappropriate in his entire life. “Define appropriate.”

Ella made a motion that encompassed them both. “Anything not like that.”

Danse frowned, “What’s wrong with our uniforms?”

“They’re _uniforms,_ Danse.” She shook her head. “If you need help, go see Becky at Fallon's Basement in Diamond City. I’m sure she could find something.”

“Not necessary. We have our own tailors in the Brotherhood.”

She looked doubtful, “Alright, if you say so.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation and Danse coughed politely. “Sir, didn’t you have something for Knight Bradley?”

Arthur had been trying to picture Ella in a proper dress and blinked, startled out of his involuntary daydream. “What? Right. Yes, of course.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small case. “Here.” He handed it to her and was irritated at how relieved he was for not outwardly reacting when her hand brushed his.

She smiled at them both as she opened it, “What’s this?” There was a softly shining medal on a bright blue ribbon inside, with the Brotherhood Insignia carved into it, the wings in relief at the bottom and the sword gilt in gold. “A medal? You’re giving me a medal?”

“In light of your service, Paladin Danse and I both feel you deserve unique recognition for your contributions, both past and future. It's with great pleasure, and the utmost respect that you are hereby granted the title of Sentinel. This is the highest honor a Brotherhood soldier can achieve, but we both felt strongly that it was well deserved.”

“Sentinel? Aren’t I skipping a few ranks?”

He nodded, “It’s a bit of an unorthodox move, but when have you ever followed the rules, Bradley?”

Faint color appeared in her cheeks and she laughed, “I suppose that’s true. Does this mean I outrank Danse now?”

The paladin gave her a patient sort of look. “It means you outrank everyone except Elder Maxson.”

He nodded, “As is befitting a Brotherhood member who is a General in her own right.” This had been his main argument when he’d discussed the promotion with his senior staff and he was still fairly proud of it.

Her fingers brushed the medal for a moment before she carefully closed the box. “Thank you both. I'm really quite honored.”

Arthur felt his pride swell for some strange reason. Must be that this was the first sentinel he’d granted the rank to personally. Probably. “The honor is ours.”

That impish grin was back, “You better watch it, Maxson... I'm only one step away from Elder.”

He laughed; he’d actually missed her impudence. “Indeed, I'll be certain to watch my back.”

She hugged the box to her chest and stood, “Would you like a tour of the Castle? Danse has been here before, of course, but he hasn’t really seen everything.”

“That would be very nice. Thank you.” He stood and Danse followed.

“Should I leave my armor here or…”

Ella thought about it for a moment and shook her head, “I’d take the fusion core out. We’ve been having an issue with one of our young ladies thinking she’s the next Boudica. Caught her last week trying to sneak her way into the armory after hours because she wanted something more lethal than the pistol we’re already letting her carry. Lord only knows what she’d do with a full suit of power armor.”

Danse nodded and went to his suit to twist the core out. Arthur chuckled, “Sounds like a soldier in the making.”

“Sally’s twelve, Elder Maxson. I’d prefer she hold off on the large-scale slaughtering until she’s at least sixteen.”

“To each their own.” He took the core from Danse and slipped it into a pocket. “Shall we?”

They followed her down the cool hallway, listening to her prattle on about the historical significance of Fort Independence, as the Castle was once known. Arthur kept his eyes resolutely pinned on the architecture or the back of her head, doing his best to keep them from wandering down her lithe frame.

Their first stop was her quarters so she could drop off the medal and they waited politely outside. Next up was the armory, across the courtyard, where a strident woman named Ronnie saluted Ella and gave them both a careful, almost hostile stare.

Then there was the greenhouses, the barn, the small grouping of homes on the western side where the wall had crumbled over centuries of wear. To the north was the ‘shopping district’, as she called it, with an impressive amphitheater still under construction.

“This is where the party is mainly going to be. There will be guards posted along the perimeter, and all guests will have to cross the open courtyard to get here. Plus, the acoustics are perfect for Mags. She’s going to love it.”

“It’s certainly remarkable, Sentinel. May I ask why?”

She stopped admiring the shining new framing and turned to him. “Why what?”

“Why use resources for something so…”, he couldn’t think of a better word for ‘useless’ and turned to Danse for assistance.

“I think what the Elder is trying to ask is why is this a priority? Are there not more worthy projects you could be focusing on?”

“What’s more important than art?” Ella stepped away from them and into the cool shade provided by the massive arching half dome.

The men shared a confused look and Danse spoke again, “Ah...were you an artist of some kind before the war in addition to being a lawyer?”

She put her arms out and did a clumsy kind of pirouette, “Nope. Didn’t have that kind of talent. I played sports...but my mother was a concert pianist.”

Arthur’s ears perked up at that. “Is it her on the radio?”

A surprised look crossed her face before she gave him a rare, genuine smile. “You’ve been listening to Radio Freedom?”

“Occasionally.”

She nodded, “Well, thanks for listening...and yes, that’s her. I have a collection of her practicing on homemade holos my dad kept.”

“It’s hard to believe that’s just her practicing. It’s beautiful.”

“Well, she was a professional.”

“Do you play?”

Ella laughed, “No. Not at all. She tried to teach me, but I just didn’t have the hands for it. I can’t even span an octave.” She held up her hand and spread her fingers as wide as she could. “Makes it a little difficult to play anything written for an actual adult.”

“What sorts of sports did you play?” Danse held up his hand to hers and frowned at the difference. It was like a yao guai’s paw compared to a cat’s.

“I fenced and did softball.”

“Softball?”

“It’s like baseball for girls. I played all the way through college.”

“What position?” He was fairly positive everyone had been assigned a specific position in games like that back then.

“Don’t laugh but...shortstop.”

Arthur stifled the impulse to and instead nodded sagely. “Ah. A challenging role.” He had no idea if it was or not but everyone liked to be flattered, right?

She gave him a considering look and narrowed her eyes a little. “I suppose...well, that’s it for the tour. Is there anything else you needed while you’re here?”

“Sentinels aren’t given assignments; they choose their tasks. So, no, I do not. You are, naturally, welcome back at the Prydwen any time. I know everyone would be happy to see you again in person.”

“I’d like that. Maybe after the ball. There’s still so much to do here.”

He nodded, “Of course. I guess the next time we’ll see you is at the ball then.”

“Sounds good. I should probably go see how much trouble Dogmeat is causing Mac. Can you see yourselves out?”

“I think we can find our way. Good day, Sentinel.

“Good day, Elder. Danse.” She gave them a little farewell wave and bounded up the stairs back towards the courtyard.

The paladin chuckled as she tripped but recovered on the top step. “Do you think she has that kind of energy right up until she drops for the night?”

His thoughts immediately went down a very dark rabbit hole and he shook his head. “I think she should expound her vigour on more worthwhile causes than frivolous pet projects.”

Danse nodded, “Her priorities need some work, to be sure. But maybe this is more for her son than anything else. It must be hard to have grown up in a world full of concerts and plays and things like professional pianists to living in this wasteland. Maybe she’s trying to bring a little culture back to humanity...and that’s a noble cause, isn’t it?”

Arthur laughed as they headed up the steps at a more sedate pace. “You aren’t her sponsor anymore, friend. You don’t have to keep defending her decisions.”

“Maybe so. Speaking of her decisions...what are your intentions on the new synth situation?”

“What do you mean?”

“She must have moved the Institute synths into some of her settlements. Should we try to ferret them out or do we wait until one of them makes a move?”

He disliked the idea of stepping on the Sentinel’s toes like that. “I think...now that the Institute is gone and the synths are no longer under their direct control, we should hold off on making any moves against them until we’re asked.”

“But, Elder, surely that’s --”

“The people of the Commonwealth have never warmed up to us, Danse. If we go in and try to interrogate their citizens, it’s just going to make things harder for everyone.”

Danse thought about this as they crossed the courtyard. “So the annexation is off?”

“Possibly...probably. When we first came here, we were under the impression that these people were without leadership or protection, but they’re strong under General Bradley. Strong enough to kill off the thing that was choking the life out of the region. I don’t want another NCR situation on our hands. I’d like to think we’ve learned our lesson regarding local governments given that we’ve been engaged in a full scale war for longer than I’ve been alive.”

“A war on two coasts would probably not be ideal.”

“Exactly.” They entered the conference room and he handed Danse his fusion core. “Anyway, she’s their General, but she’s our Sentinel. If it makes the West Coast elders feel better about the situation, I’m sure we can still claim the region as a territory.”

Danse stepped into the armor and made a face at him. “We lie to them, sir?”

“Of course not. We make Sentinel Bradley the official Brotherhood governor for the Commonwealth. That solves several problems at once.”

He laughed, “Somehow I doubt Ella will appreciate that.”

“She’s sharp. I’m sure she’ll see the long-term benefits.”

“If you say so, Elder.” He put his helmet back on. “Back to the Prydwen, sir?”

“Yes, let’s. Bradley was right about one thing. It’s very hot today.”

“Should we tell her we have air conditioning on the Prydwen?”

Arthur chuckled, “We’ll mention it next time we require her immediate attention.”

The walk back to the vertibird was somehow a lot faster than the journey from it. Arthur felt like he had an extra spring in his step and chose to not question his sudden good humor. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt so nice. They climbed back up on the bird and he looked back at the Castle as they took off. He still felt oddly proud of Bradley’s accomplishments, almost as if they were his own. Making her a sentinel was clearly the right decision. Despite her reluctance to assimilate into the Brotherhood way of life, there was just something about her that made sense as a member to his way of thinking.

“You know, you could probably start calling her Ella, Elder.”

If he squinted, he could just make out the shape of her dog sprinting through the gates, no doubt on the hunt for something new and disgusting to roll in. “What’s that, Danse?”

“Sentinel Bradley, sir. You could probably call her Ella now.”

“Probably.” Certainly he called her that enough in his thoughts, but out loud? Where everyone could hear? It felt...dangerous. He glanced at his friend and frowned. Even with the helmet on, he could tell Danse was staring. “What?”

“You seem in a much better mood, sir. It’s nice.”

“It was good to see the Sentinel is...unchanged after her ordeal. I’m simply relieved, is all.”

“Ah. Of course, Elder.”

Arthur glowered at him for a moment before resuming watching the scenery go by. He knew Teagan was a whiz at designing uniforms and he’d certainly worked wonders on his battle coat, but could he do something as simple as formal attire for this upcoming ball? If not, he’d have to send Danse to Diamond City with their measurements for that woman Bradley had mentioned. Becky something? They arrived back at the Prydwen in short order and he hopped out of the vertibird even before the pilot had finished docking and Danse followed as always.

Once they were inside and away from the constant howling wind, Danse removed his helmet and spoke again. “Sir?”

He had a million ideas for what they could wear and was impatient to get them jotted down. Bradley’s Lieutenant Garvey may have been reading about Revolutionary war era celebrations for a week, but he’d been extensively schooled in this type of thing. He’d even received dance lessons from Star Paladin Cross herself. “Yes, Danse? What is it?”

“May I see you in your chambers? In private?”

He lifted an eyebrow as he considered the request. “I suppose it has been a while.” He grinned at the paladin. “Give me one hour.”

Danse smiled back, “One hour, sir.”

He spent the better part of the time sketching out a few ideas to show Teagan later, then hurriedly picked up his chambers. He wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, but his quarters had a distinct lived-in feel that he wasn’t used to. Five minutes til, he stepped into his private shower and let the hot water relax his muscles as much as it could. It wouldn’t do to have his friend do all the work.

Arthur was just rinsing the soap out of his hair when large, warm hands slid around his torso. He jumped just a bit and then laughed. “Someday that’s going to get you killed, Danse.”

“I did knock.” He nibbled his ear lobe and grinned when it caused a shiver to go through the elder. “I think you missed a spot.” His massive hand wrapped around Arthur’s cock and helpfully pumped it a few times.

He groaned and pressed back against Danse’s rapidly growing erection. “Thanks. Might have missed a few spots, actually.”

“Well that won’t do, will it? Good thing I’m here to help.” He pressed a few biting kisses to Arthur’s neck and then went down on his knees and pressed a few more to his ass before pulling the cheeks apart and running his tongue over Arthur’s hole.

His cock jerked in response and he spread his feet further apart. “Ah, fuck, Danse. It really has been too long.”

The paladin hummed in agreement and pressed his tongue into him, one hand slipping down to gently cradle his balls. He worked patiently, carefully. They’d done this countless times. Danse was his oldest friend and lover still alive within the Brotherhood, and the only one he had ever allowed the privilege of topping him. Arthur was dripping precum like a faucet by the time he stood, finally satisfied that the elder was ready.

The head of his huge cock pressed against Arthur’s eager hole and he growled in the younger man’s ear. “You know I don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself, Arthur.”

“Couldn’t be helped. I was...busy.” He involuntarily tried to flinch away, as he always did, but Danse’s hands were like vices on his hips, pinning him in place as he slowly pushed through the tight sphincter.

The growl grew, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but don’t lie to me, boy.”

He whimpered at the commanding tone in his normally placid friend’s voice. It never failed to make him melt. “It’s not a lie.” He braced himself against the shower wall and tried to focus on keeping his body relaxed as it struggled to accommodate the massive intrusion.

Danse’s hand slipped around and roughly cupped his balls. “When was the last time you came? Even by your own hand?”

The world was quickly shrinking around him, becoming nothing but the feel of the cock pulsing inside him, mirroring his own. “I...I can’t remember.”

The hand squeezed and pulled, almost painful in its ministrations. “You should have come to me. Why didn’t you?” He’d finally met resistance but still had a few inches to go and pushed harder.

Arthur gasped and went up on his toes for a moment before the hand cradling his balls came up to his shoulder and held on, pushing him down on Danse’s length. “I don’t know.” His legs were starting to shake. “Fuck. Please, Danse.”

“I hate it when you lie to me.” He slammed his hips against Arthur’s ass, throwing his weight behind it and pressed him against the wall.

His cock was now uncomfortably shoved up against the wet tile, but it somehow made it better. He moaned and struggled in his friend’s grasp. “I am not a liar. I am the Elder of the --”

Danse snarled in his ear, “Right now you’re nothing but a lying little boy desperate for my cock.” He pulled his body away by just a few inches. “Well, go ahead. Fuck yourself on it like the needy slut you are.”

Arthur wanted to argue back, tell his friend to remember his place and leave, but he couldn’t find his voice. He’d always been forceful in their private sessions, but never this aggressive. It made his heart race though and he pushed back against the wall, spreading his legs wider and sliding just a bare inch or two along Danse’s cock before backing up against it again, desperate for the friction and the delicious feeling of his prostate being pushed beyond the brink. It wasn’t enough. Wasn’t nearly enough. His eyes closed as he concentrated on the tingling feeling building at the base of his spine.

His friend’s hands were gentle now. Rubbing firm circles along Arthur’s back and shoulders. He shifted a bit and finally managed to get a somewhat more satisfying angle and shuddered as the cock within him hit all the right places. Even if it wasn’t enough with Danse standing so passively, it was a million times better than the accidental celibacy of the past month he’d endured.

“Just admit you want her, Arthur.” Danse kept his voice persuasively soothing. “You’ll feel better for it.”

His eyes snapped open and he turned as best he could to glare at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Those hands suddenly gripped his hips again, forcing him to stop rocking, and actual hurt crossed his face for just a moment before anger took its place. “Yes, you do. We both know it. Stop lying. It’s beneath you.”

Arthur opened his mouth to argue but Danse seized it before he could, shoving his tongue down his throat while he pinned him harshly against the cold tile. His hands tightened further on the Elder’s hips and he realized, someplace in his mind where he was still capable of thought, that he’d actually have bruises from this little encounter. When Danse finally tore his mouth from his, they were both panting.

His right hand wrapped around Arthur’s cock and he pumped it almost angrily as he spoke. “You are the Elder. Everyone is looking to you for guidance and stability, and this past month, you’ve offered neither. The entire ship is worried about you. _I’m_ worried about you. Does that mean nothing? Is your stupid pride so important that you’re willing to let everyone down?” He pushed his hips flush with Arthur’s and pressed until he was forced on his toes. “Stop acting like a brat or I’m going to fuck you like one.”

He could feel it. Just out of reach. He’d never wanted to come so hard in his entire life and squirmed in Danse’s hold. “Just finish it. Please, Danse. I need it.”

The paladin sighed, he’d never been able hold onto anger for very long. Especially not with Arthur. “Not until you admit what’s been bothering you. For God’s sake, Arthur, just say her name. That’s all I’m asking.”

Normally he’d never dream of conceding a battle of wills, but the almost plaintive note in his friend’s voice cut through whatever was left of his ego and he ceased struggling. “Ella.”

His reward was immediate. Danse wrapped his arms gently around him and stepped closer, flexing his hips and quietly driving him closer to the edge while he hummed happily in his ear. “Good boy. Again.”

Arthur’s head fell back against Danse’s shoulder and his eyes closed in surrender. He’d never been able to keep secrets from him. “Ella. I want Ella.”

Danse slid a hand down and squeezed his shaft gently. “Very good. Picture her in your mind, Arthur.”

Like she’d ever left. Images of Ella filled his mind whenever he wasn’t actively repressing them. He focused on how she’d looked today, fresh from her own shower. Skin glowing with health and vigor, the way her aquamarine eyes had lit up with real happiness at her promotion, the sway of her hips in those ridiculous, almost indecent shorts as she’d led them around. That last one was particularly potent and he imagined it wasn’t Danse’s hand wrapped around his cock, but her pussy. He could almost feel the way she’d stretch and pulse around him as he drove her past the point of no return.

He groaned helplessly as his friend’s hand expertly worked him in time with the cock pumping in and out of his ass. Would she be submissive in bed? Unlikely. He’d never seen her achieve anything close to submission with anyone. She’d be a whole different kind of experience for him. Someone who didn’t care and wasn’t impressed one little bit that he was the Elder. Someone who would want the man and not just the title. The whole thought was intoxicating.

He’d take her right in his bed. No shoving her to the floor or pushing her over a table. No, not with her. He’d take his time, go excruciatingly slow until she was begging for it. He’d even let her ride him for a few minutes before pinning her beneath him and driving into her relentlessly until she was as addicted to him as he was to the thought of her. He’d flood her with his seed and it would take root. He knew it would. She’d give him sons and daughters that were strong and gifted.

His balls were starting to rise up against his body and he grunted as he came precariously close to the edge. “Danse...hurry, it’s…”

“I know. Fuck, I know.” The arm around him tightened as he pulled him closer and the grip on his cock changed just a bit, squeezing harder as he got to the head with every stroke. “You feel amazing, Arthur. So goddamn hot and tight.” His tongue traced the curve of Arthur’s ear as he panted the words. “I’m going to fill your ass up with my come, how does that sound?”

Arthur’s eyes opened as he weakly turned his head towards him, “No, we don’t...you’ve never finished there.”

Danse’s eyes were mockingly gentle as he pressed a kiss against his lips. “I am today...and when you feel it dribbling out of you later, maybe you’ll be able to remember what happens to naughty boys who lie to me.”

Part of him wanted to fight. This was too much, too far. In the three years they’d been fucking, he’d never let Danse finish anywhere inside his body, but that would mean giving up the delicious feeling of being filled by him, and Arthur couldn’t bear that. Not right now. So instead he closed his eyes again and surrendered again. “Yes, sir.”

Danse chuckled and Arthur could feel it rumble all throughout his body. “Much better. I love it when you say that.” His thrusts became harsh and a little less controlled. “Come for me, Arthur. You’ve earned it.”

He whimpered as his friend pulled back and slammed into him again and again, faster and harder. His hand found Danse’s and their fingers intertwined bare seconds before he came; stars exploding from behind his eyelids as he felt his own emission paint his chest and neck, thick ropes of it that just kept going as Danse changed his stance, his thrusts still brutal but now shallower, pressing hard into Arthur’s prostate with every drive.

Arthur felt his legs threaten to give way and clawed at Danse’s arm for support. The spurts from his cock were less forceful now, more like a gentle waterfall and he could feel the tension and stress leave his body with every gushing eruption. He couldn’t even cry out, his breath locked in his chest as the paladin skillfully milked him dry.

When he could finally get his lungs to cooperate, he took a deep, shuddering breath and Danse’s hand left his cock, his other arm wrapping around him to hold him in place while he chased his own release.

“Danse...please…”

“Shh, it’s almost over. Be a good little soldier and take it, sweetheart. Take it all.”

He felt his friends teeth set in his neck and sighed contentedly, relaxing fully in his arms and moaning softly when he felt the paladin’s pulsing release. He squirmed a little at the unfamiliar sensation but was surprised at how delicious it felt to be filled with another man’s come. He could feel the warmth of it painting his insides while Danse slowed his thrusts, still filling him beyond all reason, but now swiveling his hips right at the end in a way that had his cock twitching for another round already. His head turned blindly towards him and they kissed, slow and deep while Arthur relished in this small moment of not being in charge as Danse’s come slid down his thighs. He wondered if this was part of the reason his own conquests always left feeling so satisfied. To be filled with someone’s essence brought a whole new level of gratification to the experience.

Danse finally slid out of him with a groan and pulled away from their kiss, nuzzling against Arthur’s neck and holding him until he was sure the younger man was steady enough to stand on his own. “I want to do that again. Soon.” Arthur worked to catch his breath and just nodded. Once the act was over, they usually never spoke of it. It was a day for firsts, it seemed. “Tonight?” He pressed a soft kiss against the pulse still fluttering wildly in his neck and Arthur shook his head.

“Tomorrow...maybe.” His head was already reeling from the new physical sensations. He wasn’t sure how the emotional aspect was going to impact him yet.

His friend seemed to sense his new, temporary fragility and his arms tightened around him. “You could sleep in my room.”

Arthur pulled the mantle of elder back across his mind and took solace in the heavy weight of responsibility. “No. We’re done here, Paladin.”

Danse sighed heavily, but nodded and released him. “Don’t leave it so long next time. You’re no good to anyone if you aren’t you...sir.”

He nodded in silent acknowledgement and listened to the footsteps retreat out of his room, pressing his forehead to the cool tile and fumbling with the diverter valve until the water, now cool bordering on cold, turned off. He stayed until the room had gone completely silent and goosebumps broke out over his body before he finally went to his quarters to get dressed, closing the bathroom door firmly behind him.


	3. Article II: The Victory Ball

The East Coast Brotherhood had always been less frivolous than it’s West Coast counterpart, in Maxson’s opinion. True, they were focused on battling the New California Republic on all fronts (a cause that, to be honest, seemed well and truly lost to him), but they’d always been more inclined to political intrigue and rumor. It was why his mother had sent him away after his father’s death on the outskirts of the NCR.

If she hadn’t, chances were good he wouldn’t have reached childhood.

Despite being raised in the more austere East Coast chapter, he’d been schooled with the idea in mind that he would eventually return to the West. So, on top of learning the Codex by heart, studying various Old World governments and military forces, his training as a soldier and general subjects like mathematics and science, Arthur had been taught the art of diplomacy. It had been a haphazard education, at best, with various lessons coming from wildly different sources, but thanks to the efforts of Lyons and his comrades, Elder Maxson was an expert on all the little niceties that were required for diplomacy.

Not that he ever had much of a chance to use those skills, but they were still there. Surely.

He hoped.

Teagan had been able to follow his designs and improve upon them where needed and he and Danse were both outfitted with what was now officially the standard in Brotherhood formal wear. Sturdy, streamlined pants (still made from ripstop, but more finely woven and black), grey broadcloth long-sleeve shirts done in ‘the French style’ if Teagan was to be believed, and over that, long coats (his in dark silver, Danse’s in a dark olive) cut in the old American colonial style, with a few adjustments made for hidden weapons and the like.

Differing personal tastes aside, they were all in agreement that, while the ball was being billed as a polite social function, there was no reason to invite bad fortune by showing up completely defenseless.

With the machined steel buttons added for flair and their official pins of state on the lapels, Arthur thought they looked very dignified. Noble, even. Certainly Danse looked like a king, even if he did constantly fiddle with the ruffles that peeked out from his cuffs.

Teagan had pointed out, multiple times, what a waste of materials and resources creating the two outfits were, but he’d quickly countered that while the Brotherhood was forged in steel, it wasn’t always the right tool for the job. Sometimes, you had to be gentler in your approach.

The knowing look on Danse’s face when he’d made the argument made him feel childishly sulky and embarrassed, even if he didn’t show it. Only his friend knew exactly who he was hoping to reach with this softer touch.

Their official invitations finally arrived one week before the ball. Ella’s choice for courier left something to be desired, as Piper Wright had nosed her way into getting a full tour of the Prydwen and even a few interviews here and there after he’d dismissed her. Danse had to practically drag her away from Proctor Ingram, who seemed as confused at Piper’s insistence on getting ‘a woman’s perspective’ on the Elder as she was with the way the reporter kept obviously flirting with her.

Persistent she may be, but subtlety was clearly not one of Ms. Wright’s strengths.

He kept his invitation open on his desk, where he could see Ella’s graceful signature whenever he filed his reports. The way she looped her letters was pleasing to the eye for some reason and he tried explaining it to Danse, only to be met with amused laughter. When pressed, he was told that he was ‘too sweet’.

Arthur’s only response was to not crawl into bed with him on that particular night. Let him stew for a bit. It was one thing for him to take liberties when they were engaged in intimate relations, and he certainly had been since that afternoon in the shower; it was quite another thing altogether for him to take them while they had their clothes on.

The next night was different though. Arthur was almost antsy for contact, and he knocked softly on the paladin’s door before poking his head in.

“Danse? Are you alone.”

The book he’d been reading was set aside and he gave him a half-smile, “I was. Now I’m not.” He patted the bed next to him. “Lock the door behind you.”

Arthur obeyed and came to bed, his hands working on Danse’s skivvies almost before he’d gotten comfortable.

He chuckled and pushed the Elder flat on the bed, catching his hands and pinning them down. “Trouble sleeping?”

“No, no, of course not.” He frowned. He hated this part. Danse kept insisting on emotional honesty when they fucked lately. “I just needed…”. The proper words wouldn’t come and he stopped trying after a moment, watching his reflection in the other man’s eyes.

Danse smiled at him. “I know.” He kissed him gently and ran a hand down his torso, massaging him through his pants. “I know exactly what you need, sweetheart...but you’ll have to earn it tonight.”

“Earn it?” He relaxed under his friend’s touch and let his body react as it liked. Danse would know if he held anything back anyway.

“M’hmm.” He abruptly rolled away from him and wriggled out of his night clothes. “You’re a selfish lover, Arthur. Always have been. If you’re hoping to woo a certain Sentinel, that has to change.”

He felt his cheeks grow hot and he sat up, glaring down at him. “I am not!”

Danse raised an eyebrow, “Not selfish or not hoping to bed Ella?” Arthur sat in disgruntled silence until finally his friend grabbed the back of his neck and dragged him down so they were face to face. “Answer me.”

“I’m not...selfish.”

He grinned, “Yes, you are.”

“I’ve never been with a partner who didn’t finish!”

“And how much of that has to do with you being Elder, do you think?”

It was one of his deepest, darkest insecurities laid bare right before him and he went silent for a moment before finally admitting the truth. “I don’t know.”

Danse smiled at him, “It’s alright, Arthur. Anyone in your position would have the same issue. You were already Elder almost a year before you fucked anyone, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Yes.” It came out mumbled and he let his friend tuck him up under his arm. Cuddling had never been his thing, but lately it seemed like he needed more reassurance. “She was a Knight. Got killed a few months after."

“M’hmm. Older, right?”

“Yes. She was.”

“More experienced, too, yes?”

“Yes.” That night might have been the first time for him, but it had certainly not been hers. He barely remembered anything about it other than how excited he’d been. She had, in hindsight, simply seemed content to let him do what he wanted and took care of her own orgasm during.

His hand rubbed Arthur’s arm reassuringly. “I’m not saying you’re terrible. You have all the right equipment and all the right moves, it’s just your mindset that needs to change. How often do you actually care if your partners come when they’re under you?”

He frowned, “I always care about if they come or not.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? It feels better when they do.”

Danse chuckled, “See, that’s your problem. You need to make them come because it’s going to feel good for _them,_ not just because it feels good for you.”

“What does it matter so long as they come?”

He sighed irritably. “Stop being obtuse. Do you really think a woman like Ella is going to let you manhandle her like you do everyone else, Arthur? That she’s going to happily crawl on her knees, spread herself wide and beg you to take her?”

As much as he liked to daydream about just such a scenario, he had to admit it wasn’t very likely. The only way Ella would crawl to anyone is if her legs were broken, probably. “No.”

“You’re damn right, no.”

“Well, what would you suggest? I pluck some Scribe from the pack and...what, attempt to make love to them? I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You know why! If I treat one of them special, they’ll all think she _is_ special.” He shook his head at the whole idea. “That would cause chaos on the ship.”

“You’ve never thought to go to a whore incognito and ask for a lesson?”

“No.”

“That’s how I learned. A very kind woman in Rivet City taught me. Pretty little redhead named Cherry. I still think of her fondly...used to call me ‘Sugar’.”

Arthur made a face at the sentimental tone in the paladin’s voice. “She probably called everyone that.”

He laughed, “Oh, I’m sure she did. But she was a patient, thorough teacher, all the same.”

“I can’t go that route.”

Danse looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “Why not?”

“What if I get some kind of Wasteland disease and then Cade has to get involved? How am I supposed to explain that away?”

“You’re the Elder, Arthur. You can do what you want in your personal life. Cade isn’t going to judge you. He’s a doctor.”

“I know that. I know...I just…”

“You care what he thinks of you.”

“Yes.”

“And you think it would disappoint him if he had to give you a shot or two of penicillin?”

“Yes.” It sounded stupid when Danse said it, but father figures had been few and far between for Arthur and Cade was the last one he really had left.

“Well, then there’s only one option left.”

 _“You_ pluck a Scribe and I watch?”

Danse laughed, “No. No, I’ve found that they’re more...theatrical when you’re in attendance, Arthur. They want to impress you a little too much.”

He winced. Danse was just confirming what he’d always feared. “I...didn’t know that.”

His arm tightened around the Elder. “Don’t feel bad. Some of them try to do the same thing to me, too.”

“They do?”

“Of course they do. Men and women alike are drawn to the rank.”

“Oh.”

“The difference is I know when someone is putting on a show and when they’re genuinely having a good time.”

Arthur gave him an incredulous look. “Because a whore taught you?”

“Yes, she did. The first few times we were together, it wasn’t real. She was doing the bulk of the work, but one night, I finally made her come all on my own and the difference was...remarkable. And she even gave me a discount for every time after.” He chuckled, “Once you’ve had the experience, you can’t help but notice it.”

“So what do I do? How am I supposed to learn?”

“I’ll teach you. The student will become the master.”

“Friend...I don’t know how to tell you this if you haven’t already noticed, but you aren’t a woman.” His hand wrapped around the erect cock that had been nudging him in the thigh and squeezed, sliding the foreskin along his shaft.

Danse laughed and rolled so Arthur was under him again. “No, for this first demonstration, we’ll let you be the woman.”

His hackles immediately went up, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The paladin began unbuttoning Arthur’s skivvies, trailing kisses along the exposed skin. “Don’t get all worked up. I mean _I’m_ going to make love to _you.”_

He’d been under the impression that that’s what had been happening since the shower incident. “I thought...we had been already.” Golden brown eyes, already darkening with lust, caught his own.

“Just because I’ve been filling that sweet ass of yours with come every night doesn’t mean we’re making love, sweetheart.”

Arthur’s face went hot again but he didn’t look away. This was too important in the grand scheme of things. “Teach me.”

He continued his soft kisses, “Don’t worry. I will.” His hands helped pull the skivvies down and off the Elder’s body. “Your first lesson is to be selfless.”

“Selfless?” He was trying very hard to pay attention, but it was awfully difficult with Danse’s tongue circling the head of his cock now.

“M’hmm.” He sucked gently for a moment, just long enough to draw precum out. “The secret is, you focus solely on your partner’s pleasure and trust that they’ll do the same for you in turn.” His mouth covered the thick shaft and he moaned softly when Arthur’s fingers sank into his hair, not pushing down impatiently for once, simply holding on.

“Like this? Is this good?” His legs spread and his foot found Danse’s cock and gently rubbed against it.

Danse’s eyes met his and he nodded once before his head started to bob over Arthur. Long, deliberate pulls up and then frustratingly slow descents, his tongue flitting around the sensitive underside without ever building up pressure like Arthur was used to.

He relaxed and let his head fall back against the pillow, eyes closing in a strange kind of contented bliss. The difference in this night compared to all the others was already stark in his mind. Usually they went at each other like ravenous beasts, each intent on their own satisfaction. This was completely different. His friend was giving him a thrilling new experience, seemingly without any thought at all to his own release. He felt worshiped, adored almost, in a way that finally rang true. The slow rhythm Danse was building was driving him to madness, but he didn’t want it to stop. He craved that odd frustration; wanted the need to build up inside until he felt like he’d explode.

“It’s giving instead of taking. Right?” The paladin gave no answer, but he felt him smile around his cock anyway, so he knew he was learning the lesson like he was supposed to. His hips tried to arch up, just a bit, but Danse’s hands were immediately there, pinning him to the bed while he growled a wordless warning. Arthur shivered and willed his body to relax, fighting the temptation to push things along, even as his own aching for release was exceeding anything he’d ever felt before. An uncharacteristically needy whine left his throat. “Please, Danse...I can’t take it. Please?”

His friend’s mouth left him entirely and Arthur almost cried for its loss. “That’s it. That’s exactly where you want them. Desperate for your touch, _begging_ for it. That’s where you’ll need to get her, Arthur. Ella is a strong-willed woman with near indomitable principles and a wall around her heart as thick as the Castle’s. You have to overwhelm all of that to get her where you want her. Do you understand?”

The idea of Ella, helpless and wanting beneath him, was enough to make his cock jerk and he nodded. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”

“Very good.” He moved away for a moment and Arthur whimpered at the loss of his warmth, but soon he returned, rubbing two oiled fingers along his hole. “Is this what you want, sweetheart?” He nodded but Danse just chuckled. “Use your words.”

“Yes, it’s what I want. Please.” A single finger breached his body and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as his friend slowly stretched him open. It wasn’t nearly enough and he scooted down, trying to fuck himself on it.

Danse laughed, “So eager tonight. I haven’t been spoiling you these past weeks, have I?”

“Maybe.”

His finger unerringly found the hidden sweet spot within him that had Arthur’s toes curling. Satisfied with the way he was writhing beneath him, Danse’s mouth settled over him again, working his cock in time with his finger’s gentle circling motions. It was still slower and sweeter than anything he’d experienced, but at least now he could feel his release on the horizon.

He gave up any pretense of control, content to lay passive and let his friend school him in this strange new way of copulation. He felt adrift and oddly safe. Almost comforted. He wondered if anyone had ever felt this way under him, but doubted it. His compatriots trusted him as the Elder, but as a man? He had no idea and he’d never cared to know until this moment.

Danse’s mouth left him with a final, thorough lick and Arthur opened his eyes, surprised in a pleasant sort of way at the fond expression on his friend’s face.

“You look awfully sweet laying back like this.”

He had to laugh, “You’re the only person who’s ever called me sweet.”

“That’s only because no one knows you like I do...yet.” He slowly drew his finger out of him and readied his cock.

The idea of anyone else seeing him this weak and defenseless was overwhelmingly foreign, borderline terrifying, to Arthur. On impulse, he rose up and wrapped his arms around the paladin, kissing him deeply so the man couldn’t continue to tempt him further with ideas of true intimacy and maybe even love.

Danse let him drag him down and smiled against his mouth like he knew exactly what the Elder was thinking. He braced his weight on one arm and used his hand to guide the head of his cock into Arthur’s tight hole, grunting a little as he pushed through and waited patiently for his partner to adjust.

Arthur didn’t want time to adjust, though. He was growing tired of this game, tired of keeping his emotions in play when all he really needed at this point was release. He rocked his hips upward and moaned as Danse’s thick shaft slowly slid deep within him, stretching him almost to the limit and bringing a delectable kind of pressure to his prostate.

The paladin chuckled and broke away from their kiss. “You really _are_ eager tonight, aren’t you?”

“Shut up already and fuck me.” He growled and grabbed his ass with both hands, pulling him deeper and squirming at the delicious feeling of being impossibly full.

Danse’s arms went around his legs, bending them back and pressing so deep that Arthur thought he’d be split in two. “Is this what you want, Arthur?” He wrapped his arms around him and nodded against his neck. Danse thrust hard, just once, and he cried out as his body was suddenly pushed right to the brink of orgasm. “Use your words, boy. I won’t tell you again.”

“Yes, yes, please, Danse. I want you to fuck me, please.” It came out as a sob but he was so far gone he couldn’t even find enough sense to be embarrassed.

“There you go.” He kissed him gently and his smile was only a little mocking. “Maybe next time you get pissy over something I said, we can talk about it like adults instead of you pouting and skipping a night trying to punish me. You only punished yourself, and now look at you; practically dying for a good fucking.” He clicked his tongue in mild admonishment. “What would people say?” Before Arthur could respond, his teeth caught his lower lip, nibbling a bit before kissing him; his tongue sliding into his mouth and stroking the Elder’s own in rhythm of their bodies meeting.

Arthur could have cried in relief. His balls pulled up close to his body on just the fourth stroke and he felt Danse’s hand curl around his cock, gentle and warm, encouraging him to let go. He shuddered and felt the hot, sticky warmth between them as he came, his cries muffled by his friend’s mouth still on his. He felt a little dizzy and wonderfully light after the initial burst, magnified by Danse’s swiftly intensifying thrusting and his own release, pulsing hot and hard deep within him. The guttural moans and the way his friend’s mouth was suddenly soft and sweetly reverent on his made him feel absurdly proud. He didn’t care to examine why, instead focusing on how comforting the weight of his collapsed body felt on his.

Danse finally disengaged from him, pausing to ruffle his hair affectionately before he retrieved a warm washcloth from his private latrine. He wiped them both down carefully and then snuggled up behind Arthur, an arm and leg wrapped around the smaller man.

“Well that was...educational.”

The paladin chuckled in his ear, “The response you’re hoping for is either stunned silence or gushing platitudes.”

“Of course.”

“‘Educational’ will work for tonight.” He pressed a soft kiss against Arthur’s the Elder’s neck. “Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night, Danse...and thank you.”

“Anytime, boy. Anytime.”

  


They touched down in the same parking lot as before, exactly fifteen minutes after the party was to have started. According to Quinlan’s research, people who were actually on time to events like these were considered rude, and the last thing Arthur wanted was to appear rude. The concept of ‘fashionably late’ seemed a little ridiculous to him, but Quinlan _was_ their resident expert on all things Pre-War and so he’d set aside his own concerns, bowing to the Proctor’s superior knowledge.

Glowing paper lanterns lit the path before them, and he could see extra sentries, dressed in dark colors so as to not be too intrusive, sitting just outside of their light. The invitations had kindly, if naively, requested that no outside weapons be brought in and Danse noted the added security would probably be very comforting to those who had actually followed Ella’s instructions. Their own weapons were hidden, of course. Believing a Brotherhood Elder would go anywhere without their own personal protection was patently absurd.

They stepped through the gates into the mostly empty courtyard. More lanterns were here, strung on wires that criss-crossed the space and all connected at the radio shack. Uniformed guards had been posted, guarding the various entrances to the inner sanctum of the Castle and clearly visible. They were all nearly identical to Arthur, in their matching cowboy hats and jackets; but two, posted by the doorway closest to the General’s private quarters, were wearing sunglasses and he couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He assumed the shades denoted a higher rank than your average Minuteman, but they were surely disadvantageous for night duty.

Music and laughter could be heard coming from the northern side, boosted by the newly finished amphitheater no doubt, and they headed for it.

Danse kept fidgeting with his ascot. “Are you sure we won’t be overdressed, sir? They are Wastelanders, after all.”

“But Bradley is not, and she’s the one in charge.” He might have finally started calling her Ella in private with his friend, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it in public without her permission.

“Are you nervous?”

Yes. “Of course not. I trained for this sort of thing until the second Elder Lyons passed.”

The paladin shook his head slightly, but let the lie slide. “I’m sure you’ll do the Brotherhood proud tonight, Elder."

“Thank you, Paladin. You as well.”

The party finally came into view. There was a hodgepodge of a band on the stage that included several ghouls and a Mister Handy. Arthur fought his natural revulsion and instead decided to focus just on the music, which was pleasant and well-played, regardless of the musicians it came from. They paused just outside the main dance floor and observed for a moment. Little groups of people were clustered about. ‘Mingling’ no doubt, if Quinlan’s data was accurate.

A tall, lovely brunette in a sparkling red dress noticed them and sauntered over, smiling seductively at Danse. “My, my. Paladin Danse, is that you?”

He nodded sociably, “Yes, is it. Hello, Miss Magnolia.”

“Still so polite. I almost didn’t recognize you out of uniform, honey.” She gave him a thorough once over and smirked. “I can’t decide if you’re more handsome in it or out of it. Next time you’re in Goodneighbor, come see me and we can find out.” She tore her eyes off the paladin long enough to run them over Arthur. “And who’s your friend here?”

“This is Arthur Maxson, our Elder. Elder Maxson, this is Magnolia.” They’d gone over how he’d be introduced days before. Cade felt using his proper name first and then adding the title after would make people less inclined to get their backs up about them being Brotherhood.

Arthur held his hand out and politely shook hers. “Hello, ma’am. I’ve heard a great deal about you...and your songs on the radio are quite lovely.”

She seemed pleasantly surprised by his manners and chuckled, “Goodness. The Brotherhood sure knows how to grow ‘em, don’t they? You ever catch one of my shows, honey?”

“Not in person, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I do adore a live audience, and I bet you’re as lively as they come, hmm?”

Arthur had never encountered a woman this forward who wasn’t try to sell something, and glanced at Danse for assistance, but the paladin was staring at the opposite side of the room, seemingly dumbfounded. “Paladin Danse? What’s wrong?”

Magnolia studied his face and then turned to take in the view. “Ah, which one is it, sweetheart?”

Danse finally blinked and cleared his throat a bit, clearly embarrassed if the flush across his cheeks was any indication. “The one in green.”

The singer frowned in confusion at the slender redhead in the dark green silk for a moment and then laughed; it was a melodic, tinkling kind of sound. “Why, that’s little Cait. You know her, silly.”

 _“That’s_ Cait? Combat Zone Cait?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s her Christian name exactly, but you’re close enough. Didn’t you meet her when you were off having adventures with Ella?”

His eyes seemed glued to the girl. “Oh...yes. Yes, of course. She’s just...I never...I mean…”

Magnolia chuckled, “You never actually _saw_ her, huh? Poor little cowboy.”

Arthur studied the girl himself. Slender, medium height. She was pretty, if a little pale for his tastes, and had nice eyes and a mischievous smile. Danse must really have a thing for redheads. “She’s charming, Danse. Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Oh, no. No, I’m...no.”

“If I were you, I’d move fast. You aren’t the only one here tonight who’s finally figured out Cait’s a woman under all those muscles. Fortune favors the bold, honey.” Magnolia smiled one last time and nodded graciously to them. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, the festivities are about to begin.”

Arthur murmured a goodbye for them both, since Danse’s brain seemed to have temporarily stopped working. He nudged him once she’d left to get his attention. “Are you with me, Paladin?”

He blinked and glanced down at him and then went back to watching the girl. It was almost like he couldn’t help himself. “Yes. Yes, sir, of course.”

“Combat Zone Cait? What does that mean?”

“She’s...she’s a warrior. Hand to hand combat specialist. Ella once told me she used a power fist to punch a hole through a super mutant.”

His eyes went to the girl again. She looked too delicate to do that kind of damage until she paused to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The muscles in her arm and shoulders were impressive. “That’s remarkable. A little reckless, maybe.”

“She’s fearless, sir.”

Arthur smiled at the clear admiration in his voice. “Are you sure you aren’t going to go talk to her? Why not ask her for a dance?”

“Ask who for a dance?” Ella’s voice, suddenly behind them, startled them both enough to jump.

Danse, temporarily freed from Cait’s spell, recovered first. “Oh, no one. It’s not important. Good evening, Ella.”

“Good evening, Danse.” She stepped back a bit and took him in. “Wow, look at you! So dashing!” Her eyes landed on his ascot and she laughed. “Now, who on earth tied that?” Her hands quickly untied it and she held up one end. “Watch carefully, alright? It goes over like this, and then under like that, around, then through.” She fussed over the satiny cloth until it finally lay properly. “See? Much better.”

“Thank you. It does feel better.”

“So? Who tied it?”

“Teagan.”

She shook her head, “Figures.”

“Your dress is very becoming. Doesn’t she look lovely, Elder Maxson?”

Arthur hadn’t found his voice yet and just nodded along. The dark blue satin gown brought out her eyes and accentuated other, far curvier parts of her as well.

Ella grinned and dropped a quick curtsy. “Oh, this old thing. Just something I had lying around.” She twirled for them and the knee length skirt flared out, revealing pristine white crinoline beneath. “No, but really, didn’t Becky do wonders? Codsworth found the fabric and she did the sewing. It’s even got pockets!” She immediately stuck her hands in them and flapped the skirt a bit.

Danse laughed, “Excellent priorities, Sentinel. I’m impressed.”

“You’re taller.” As soon as the words popped out of his mouth, his friend and Ella both stopped laughing and stared at him. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt like he wanted to find a bunker to hide in, but he didn’t like it.

She at least seemed amused by his momentary loss of wit and smiled. “It’s the heels. I haven’t worn them since my lawyering days. I’m surprised you even noticed. No one else has said anything.” Her eyes darted past them for a moment. “Oh! I’m getting signaled. We’re going to start soon. I hope you all have a good time tonight. I really do. Both of you save me a dance, okay?”

They both bowed politely as she walked past them and Danse chuckled. “That was...interesting.”

Arthur glowered and irritably adjusted one of his cuff-links. “Why can’t I ever just say what I want to say to her? I keep making myself look like an ass.”

“I don’t think it was that bad, sir. She didn’t take offense.”

“Of course not. Because she has manners.” He watched her climb the stairs and shook his head. “Maybe this was a bad idea...you and Cade should have come, or Quinlan.”

“Just breathe, Arthur. You’re going to be fine.” Danse kept his voice low and soft. “What did you want to say to her?”

He sighed, “That she’d done a wonderful job putting all of this together and that I was impressed.”

The paladin waited a few seconds before prompting. “And?”

“And...that she looks beautiful.”

He smiled, “So say that to her when you dance together. It’s not like you aren’t going to speak to her again tonight. Relax, Elder. You’re going to be fine.”

“You keep saying that."

“I keep saying it because it’s true.”

Sudden feedback through the speakers had them all wincing and Ella’s laughter followed. “Sorry! Sorry, everybody. Wow. Okay, well...here we are.” She looked around at the crowd and smiled nervously. Minutemen had begun slipping through the crowd, offering glasses of wine to those in attendance.

“It’s alright, Sunshine. We don’t bite...unless you’re into that.”

She blushed and giggled at the ridiculous looking ghoul dressed as a pirate of some sort and Arthur was, for the first time in his life, happy that he didn’t have his laser rifle on him.

“Yes, thank you for that, Mayor Hancock.” Ella cleared her throat and stood a little straighter. “Welcome, everyone, to the first annual Victory Day Ball.” She paused while applause filled the space. “It’s been a long, difficult journey for the Commonwealth, but we have prevailed. The Institute is gone..and while it will take us many, many years to repair the damage they have inflicted on our beloved city, the dark cloud of their presence has finally lifted. With that in mind, the Minutemen wish to thank our stalwart allies and friends who made this glorious day possible. From Goodneighbor to Diamond City, Far Harbor and all points in between, to those who have fallen and those who still stand by our side...thank you. Thank you for supporting us and our efforts, and thank you for your constant faith and courageous hearts, without which we never would have triumphed.” She lifted her glass and smiled. “Here’s to a glorious night of music and merriment, and to an equally magnificent dawn which will herald a bright, new age for the Commonwealth. To the Commonwealth!”

The crowd raised their glasses and toasted her back, “To the Commonwealth!”

She looked to Magnolia standing in the wings and waved her over, “Alright, now take this thing away from me before I really embarrass myself.”

The singer strutted into the spotlight and waved carelessly at the applause and whistles that broke out, kissing Ella on the cheek before taking over center stage. “Isn’t she just an angel, folks? Let’s give a hand to our General, hmm?” She clapped for a moment before grinning roguishly at them. “And quite the looker, too. Who knew she was hiding all that under her silly uniform.”

“I knew, Mags!”

Magnolia all but rolled her eyes, “M’hmm, I’m sure you did, John. Alright now, let’s get this party goin’, what do you say?”

The crowd went wild as the band started up and Arthur watched Ella dart offstage, clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight. She made it just a few feet before being swept up by a tall man in an ensemble that had to be right out of a Turnbull painting. Must be Garvey. He didn’t like seeing her dance with someone else, but it was probably proper that her first be given to the man who’d made her General.

A girl with a shy smile and soft, dark brown eyes approached Danse and off they went into the throng. He smiled at that. Maybe if he socialized for a bit, he’d relax enough to finally approach the little redhead.

“So, you wanna dance, or are you just going to leer at people all night?”

He blinked and looked down. Piper Wright, looking mildly uncomfortable in her pretty pink dress, was glaring up at him. “I’m not leering at anyone.”

“Sure. Okay...I’m impressed you actually came. Shows balls.”

Arthur wished Ella had better taste in friends. If he didn’t know she was so attached to this woman, he’d have already walked away. As it stood, he knew better than to directly answer any question she asked. “Ms Wright, would you like to dance?”

“Well, if I have to.” She grabbed his hand and all but dragged him onto the dance floor.

He kept his hands light and respectfully placed, just like he’d been taught and tried to think of something polite to say. “You look...nice.”

Her eyes immediately narrowed suspiciously, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He frowned, “Just that...you look nice. It’s small talk. It’s what you’re supposed to do while dancing.”

“Oh.” She seemed to mull this over for a minute. “Blue picked it.”

“She has good taste.”

Piper snorted, “Sometimes. You uh...I guess you look nice, too. Who picked your outfit out?”

“Proctor Teagan is our quartermaster.”

Her head tilted back and forth and he could clearly see her fighting the urge to say something rude. “Okay...so is this standard Brotherhood party clothes or something?”

“It is.”

“Hmm. What’s Danse’s deal with Cait?”

Arthur frowned, “What?”

“I saw him staring. What’s the deal? He looked like he’d never seen a woman before.”

His eyes looked around for a way out but there was none to be had. “That’s...his business.”

“You know, she’s got problems with men that way. If he’s gonna try something, I mean.” When his only response was to raise an eyebrow, she sighed irritably. “And that’s _her_ business, so no, I’m not going to say anything else. Just...tell him to be nice, alright? She’s a snack and all, but she’s a snack that bites back. You feel me?”

Was this Piper trying to be helpful? “Alright. Noted.”

“Speaking of snacks, how’s Ingram doing?”

Ah. Now he understood. “Proctor Ingram is doing well, thank you.”

“Is Proctor her first name?”

“Of course not.”

“I’m only asking because that’s all I’ve ever heard anyone call her, is all.”

“It’s her rank, not her name.”

“Oh.” She stared really hard at the pattern on his ascot for a moment. “So...do you know her name?”

He sighed, “Of course I do.”

“Prove it.”

“You know, there are better, more direct ways to get information out of people.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes and he shook his head at her childishness. “Her name is Kari.”

“Kari...I _knew_ it’d be something gorgeous.” Piper chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Don’t suppose you know if she’s seeing anybody?”

“Don’t suppose I do.” Ingram only ever saw other ladies, which had nothing to do with him.

She opened her mouth to say something and was interrupted by the song ending. “Oh. I guess that’s it. Blue said it was rude to dance with someone two songs in a row.” She shook his hand hard and stepped back. “Thanks for the dance, Elder Maxson. It was...nice.”

He carefully disengaged his hand from hers before she wrung it to death. “Yes, nice. Thank you as well.” He managed to wait until she was walking away before swiftly leaving the dance-floor himself. This socialization stuff always seemed a lot easier when he’d been practicing as a kid.

There was a bright-eyed brunette serving punch and he gratefully accepted a cup. Holding something meant you were unavailable for dancing, so as long as he had his glass, he should be safe. He stood off to the side and sipped it slowly. Tasted like paint thinner and something much sweeter, but he couldn’t place it.

The punch bowl girl finally spoke. “Ah...you are Elder Maxson, are you not?”

He frowned at the voice. Sounded almost like a Miss Nanny bot, but that was absurd, wasn’t it? “Yes, I am.”

“Madame says I am not supposed to speak with you.”

“Madame?”

“Oui. Général Ella.”

Well that was rude. “Okay.”

“But I am Curie, and I thought I should say hello anyway since I have been working with your Docteur Cade.”

Finally, someone he actually wanted to talk to.“You came up with the mutfruit stimpaks.”

She brightened considerably, “Ah! You are familiar with my work?”

“Of course. It’s brilliant. Probably going to save a lot of lives.”

A pretty blush appeared in her cheeks. “That is so very kind of you to say! I have written a paper on my research, if you are interested in such things?”

“I’d love to read it.”

Her eyes went wide and sparkly, “Would you? You are also a man of science, then?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go quite that far, but it’s always interested me.”

“Docteur Cade has taught me so much of medicines, diseases, and pathogens. I think your Brotherhood is a wonderful organization, truly. So many men and women devoted to stemming the tide of barbarism that seems to have temporarily overwhelmed humanity. I find you very noble, Elder Maxson.”

He was starting to wish he’d met Curie a lot earlier in his life, what with her clear enthusiasm for the Brotherhood, obvious intelligence and strangely innocent beauty. “Thank you, Doctor Curie.”

“But, of course. I was wondering, do you think it would be possible for me to one day visit your airship? Sometimes I think of all the things your Brotherhood must know and get very excited. My poor little heart beats so fast!”

He just bet it did. “Oh, absolutely. Anytime you’d like. I’ll let Cade know it’s alright and you can make the arrangements through him.”

Any more excited and she’d glow. “Oh! _Oh,_ Elder Maxson! That is...you don’t know how happy you have made me!”

“Elder Maxson actually making a woman happy? Now that’ll be the day.”

Arthur turned to glare at the mercenary from before. MacCready. “Excuse me, do we know each other?”

“Monsieur MacCready! So rude!”

He had the grace to at least look slightly uncomfortable at her scolding. “Sorry, Curie. I think uh...Madame wanted you to grab some more of the watermelon wine.”

She went from scoldy to confused and glanced down at the punch bowl. “Ah. Pardon. I nearly forgot what I was doing.” Her smile at Arthur was apologetic, “Please excuse me, Elder Maxson.”

“Sure.” He nodded sociably and went back to sipping his drink, pointedly ignoring the shorter man still standing next to him.

MacCready waited for until the doctor had hurried away before speaking, “Ella doesn’t want you talking to Curie.”

He suppressed an irritated sigh, “Any particular reason?”

“She’s the boss. That’s the only reason you need, Artie.”

Something was scratching at the back of his memory. “Do we know each other from somewhere?”

The look he received was equal parts insolence and amusement. “Nah. Don’t worry about it. You just focus on keeping away from our little Einstein, alright?”

“We were only talking about her research.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to justify himself to this pipsqueak, but the man did probably report directly to Ella.

“Uh-huh.” He briefly touched his forehead, like he was used to wearing a hat. “Just behave yourself.” He held his hand out for Arthur’s cup. “I think that’s enough punch for you.”

Arthur closed his eyes for just a moment and imagined how satisfying it would be to pop this kid right in the mouth, but Sarah Lyons was there, as always, cautioning him to keep a lid on his temper. “Thank you. I believe it is.”

He handed the glass over, walked away and headed for the stairs. Thus far this night was a disaster and he was about at his limit. He’d nearly made it there when a soft hand caught his and he turned. Ella.

“You didn’t forget about our dance, did you, Elder Maxson?”

Staring down into those dazzling eyes of hers, all traces of aggravation suddenly fled his body. “No, of course not. Are you free?”

Her hand slipped from his and she smiled expectantly. “As a bird.”

He realized she was actually going to wait until he asked her properly and smiled at how old-fashioned it all was. “Sentinel Bradley, would you care to dance?”

“Yes, I would.”

Arthur led her on the dancefloor and was glad for the slower tempo of the song. Not quite a romantic slow dance, but slow enough to talk, anyway. He took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts while his brain was still functional. “I want to commend you on what you’ve done here tonight. It’s quite remarkable how you’ve brought people from all walks of life together.”

She laughed, “Is that your polite way of saying you wish I hadn’t invited--”

“No, no, it isn’t.” He didn’t want to interrupt her, that was unthinkably impolite, but he needed to immediately correct her on this point. “I think what your Minutemen do, being so accepting of others, is admirable. The Elder who fostered me would have been very impressed.”

“Lyons the first?”

He nodded, “That’s the one.”

Ella scrunched up her face a bit, “I’ve heard...uncomplimentary things about him.”

She must be referring to the derogatory comments some of the former Outcasts still engaged in when he wasn’t present. “He was considered controversial by many within the Brotherhood, but he was a good man and...he would have liked you a great deal.”

Her cheeks went a bit pink, “Oh. I didn’t realize. Thank you.”

He smiled and felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. Here was someone who actually understood how these games were supposed to be played. “Also, I meant to say so before, but, you look quite beautiful tonight.”

“You’re just overwhelmed by my being clean for once.”

Arthur smiled, “That’s certainly part of it, no doubt.” He studied her face for a moment and wondered how he’d always missed her cheekbones. “Did you do something with your hair?”

“Oh, yes, I cut it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, it looks wonderful on you.” The short bob showed off her graceful neck and, of course, those high cheekbones.

“Thanks. It just seemed more practical. Shaun’s always tinkering with things and I’m not sure what he did to my hairdryer, but it’s...probably not safe for human use anymore. Does a hell of a job melting paint off things though.”

He liked how soft her eyes looked whenever she talked about her son. “Has a way with machines, does he?”

“You could say that.” The hand on his shoulder thoughtfully rubbed the fabric there. “You look very handsome tonight, Elder Maxson. I like you out of your battle coat.”

“Thank you...and please, call me Arthur.”

“Only if you call me Ella.”

“That can be arranged.”

She giggled and for a split second he almost felt lightheaded, “I like you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Not all cranky and arrogant. This may be the longest we’ve ever gone without arguing.”

“If that’s true, it's only because you’re making an effort to not be presumptuous and irritating.”

“Oh, it's always an effort when I’m with you, Arthur.”

He immediately felt his back go up but noticed the twinkle in her eye at the last second. “You’re teasing me.”

“Only a little.”

“Was that why you sent MacCready over?”

Ella’s head tilted, “What?”

“Your mercenary. He came over and told me I wasn’t supposed to speak with Doctor Curie.”

“He did not.”

“Did, too.”

“I’ll _kill_ him.” She sighed, “I’m sorry about that. I told Curie she shouldn’t talk to you because she’s rather...intense and sometimes says things that disturb others.” She shrugged at his confused expression, “She grew up in a vault, so, she’s a little overeager sometimes when it comes to...a lot of things.”

“Ah. I see...I knew a vault dweller once. He was also intense.”

“Well, there you go.”

“I’d wondered if maybe you were jealous.” If she could tease him, he could tease her right back, right?

“Jealous? Of what, exactly?”

“Of someone else sweeping me off my feet.” Arthur liked the cantankerous, indignant look that crossed her face a little too much and grinned.

She laughed, “Now who’s the tease?” A cold wind swept over the dance-floor and she shuddered and stepped closer. “Oh! That one went right down my back.”

He carefully held her a little tighter, hoping to impart some of his warmth and praying to whoever was listening that his body wouldn’t respond to hers moving against him. “You wanted it cooler, didn’t you?”

“Yes, cooler, but not _cold._ I think there’s a storm coming in.”

“Probably. They’re common for this time of year. I’m sure it will hold off until after your party though.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely. I doubt even Mother Nature wants to risk incurring your wrath.”

Ella gave him a half smile. “I guess we really haven’t gotten off on the right foot, have we?”

He smiled back, “Difficult circumstances. I’m sure things will be much easier from here on out.”

“I hope so. I’d like us to be friends.”

Did she mean friends or ‘friends’? “As would I.” Another gust of wind had her practically burrowing against his chest. “Ah, sorry. I’m sorry, just...give me a minute.”

Arthur was starting to wonder if there was some signal he was missing here. “It’s fine. Take your time.”

“It’s just...I hate that feeling now, you know? Ever since the cryostasis. Why can’t it just always be seventy degrees out? Is that too much to ask?”

Images of snuggling up under the covers and finding new and interesting ways to keep her warm filled his head. “For the entire planet to be exactly the temperature you want? No, of course not.”

She huffed, “When you put it that way, I sound like a spoiled brat.”

“You know, we have air conditioning on the Prydwen...and you do technically have chambers on board, even if you’ve never used them. You can make it whatever temperature you like.” And maybe he could come along later and make it much, much hotter.

“Really? I didn’t know any of that.”

“You also have a suit of power armor that, according to Ingram, you’ve forgotten about.”

“Oh, that.” She made a face. “I didn’t forget, I just don’t like power armor.”

“You don’t like it? How can you not like it?”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Well, if you must know, my feet don’t reach the pedals.”

Arthur frowned at that, “Just how tall are you anyway?”

“5’1” without shoes.”

“That...does put you on the smaller side.” They had squires taller than her, not that he was going to point that out.

“Yes, thank you. I had noticed. Shaun is already as tall as I am.”

“Really? Tall for a boy his age.”

“He comes by it honest.”

“I could have sworn I read something about you taking out a Deathclaw in power armor your first day out of the vault.” It had only been his favorite part of Danse’s original report.

She shook her head. “It didn’t go as well as the story makes it sound.”

“Still, its impressive.”

“It would have been a lot more impressive if I hadn’t fallen on my face quite so much.”

He chuckled, “Maybe Proctor Ingram can come up with a solution. Power armor can make all the difference in battle.”

“Thanks...I’m hoping my battling days are done, though.”

“The fight is never over, I’m afraid.”

She sighed, “I know, but...just let me pretend, alright?”

There was a weariness in her voice that went right through him and he remembered she hadn’t been born to be a military leader. She’d been born for a softer time altogether. He smiled gently down at her. “Alright. Pretend away, Ella.”

She blushed a little and suddenly didn’t want to meet his gaze. “Thank you.” The song finally ended and she immediately stepped back away from him. “And thank you for the dance, Arthur.”

He hadn’t realized how warm they’d gotten until another cold breeze blew through the dancefloor and he had to actually fight the urge to gather her back into his arms. “You’re welcome, Ella. Thank you.” He settled for kissing her hand instead. It wasn’t something he’d been taught, but he’d seen it in about a million old movies from her time.

She slid a little further away and hugged her arms around herself. “I...I think I need to go get warm. I’ll be in my chambers. Excuse me.”

“Of course.” Arthur watched her make her way through the crowd and was surprised when she turned back at the stairs, staring at him with big eyes and looking startled when he waved to her.

 _Had_ he missed a signal? He frowned thoughtfully and turned every moment they’d had together over in his head. They’d engaged in polite small-talk, had their one dance, as was proper. They’d even managed to be cordial enough to call each other by their given names. She’d violated the unspoken twelve inches rule while they danced, of course, but that was just because it was getting chilly out, right? It’s not like her dress would actually keep her warm, with how it bared her back and shoulders to the elements.

But all those pretty blushes...and how she didn’t seem able to meet his eyes at the end...and the way she’d caressed his shoulder. It was subtle, true, but Quinlan had said pre-war socialization rituals had been all about subtle signals. Really, when he thought about it, it seemed to him that she’d done everything short of tossing a handkerchief at his feet.

It was with that lingering thought that he climbed the stairs himself and headed into the gloomy Castle interior. He took the first entrance off the courtyard so he didn’t draw the attention of the guards and headed down the dark corridor, staying out of the light. If she had sent him a signal, and went to all the trouble of leaving the party altogether under the paltry justification of needing to get warm, she probably wouldn’t want anyone knowing what they were about to be up to.

He was a few feet from her door when it opened and Ella appeared, wearing a delicate shawl over her shoulders. Arthur smiled at that. Going so far in her ruse to keep a clandestine affair under wraps was adorably old-fashioned and downright charming, really.

She was wiggling her hands into satin gloves when she finally noticed him, his shadow suddenly looming over her as he stepped closer. “Oh! Arthur. You startled me. What...what are you doing here?”

He smiled at her; the same smile that had preceded so many of these little adventures for him, and didn’t answer. Instead he wrapped an arm around her waist, which felt wonderfully warm to him, and tilted her chin up with his other hand, kissing her fully and eagerly pushing his tongue in her mouth when she gasped.

She felt wonderful. So soft and sweet. Her lips were full and yielding under his own and she tasted like the watermelon wine punch from the party. He was pleasantly surprised at her natural submission and deepened the kiss, swaying his hips against her so she could feel the proof of his desire. If she were anyone else, he’d want her right here, against the wall. As it was, he was a little put out that their first time wouldn’t be on his own territory, but right now, any bed would do.

Ella’s hands slid up along his chest and then abruptly shoved him, hard for someone her size. Arthur stumbled back and barely managed to get his bearings when a sudden stinging pain bloomed in his cheek. He turned his head back towards her and stared in shock. She’d slapped him.

She seemed to have jumped right over shock and straight to righteous indignation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He blinked hard in the darkness and tried to get his brain to catch up. “I...I thought…”

“No, clearly you didn’t think at all.” She advanced on him and was so terrible in her fury that he actually took a step back. “Do you think just because I’m in this stupid dress that I can’t take you? Because I can and I will!”

“Ella, please, I--”

“That’s General Bradley to you, young man.”

“There a problem here, boss?”

Her head whipped toward the voice and Arthur’s heart almost broke at the obvious relief on her face. “Deacon.”

It was one of the Minutemen with the sunglasses. He sauntered over, ignoring Arthur entirely, and gently cupped her cheek. “You alright?”

She took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, I’m alright.”

His thumb brushed against her bruised lips with the careless delicacy of someone who’d done it a thousand times before. “Looks like some asshole smudged your lipstick a bit, Charm.”

“Oh.” Her eyes darted over to Arthur and then back to Deacon. “Would you please see our Brotherhood friends back to their vertibird? The Elder is... not feeling himself tonight.”

“Sure. I can do that.”

“Thank you.” She turned back towards her door and spoke over her shoulder, not looking at him directly. “Good night, Mister Maxson. I hope you feel better soon.”

He couldn’t get any words out before she disappeared into her room, locking the door loudly behind her. He moved towards it, only to be met with a firm hand on his arm.

“Right this way, Elder.” Deacon gave him a feral sort of smile and gestured towards the courtyard.

Arthur’s mind raced along, trying to figure out a way to make things right, but there was nothing. Nothing he could do but follow her instructions. “Right. Thank you.” He walked ahead of the escort and waited patiently at the gate while he went to get Danse, trying not to notice how the other man with the sunglasses was staring at him with an unnerving aura of contempt.

Danse finally appeared from the party and jogged over, looking concerned. “Sir, are you alright? Deacon said you aren’t feeling well.”

“We... we just need to leave now, Paladin.”

The concern deepened, “Alright.” He turned to the Minuteman. “You don’t have to take us any further. I can see the Elder back.”

A roguish grin appeared, “Sorry, cowboy. I only take orders from the General.” He effected a sardonic little bow. “This way, gentlemen.”

They walked along the glowing path in silence, Arthur doing his best to ignore the waves of disquiet rolling off his friend and the irksomely cheerful tune the Minuteman was whistling as they went. Finally the vertibird came into view and he’d never been more relieved to see one in his entire life, and he was including combat situations.

Deacon very kindly helped Danse up and then assisted Arthur as well, but instead of letting his arm go once he was in, his hand tightened until it was almost painful and he leaned in close enough that the Elder could see the bright blue of his eyes over the shades.

"Just so we’re all on the same page...if you ever again lay a hand, or anything else, on my girl without her expressed permission, it will be the last time you have use of that particular appendage. We clear?” His eyes swept over the silent men and he smiled and suddenly looked like a movie star. “Yeah, we’re clear.” He patted Arthur’s arm and moved back away from the bird. “You boys have a real nice evening now. Take care!”

They took off and Arthur felt his stomach roll with it for the first time ever. Mortification so potent he could almost taste it flooded his soul. He felt like a fool. A stupid, stupid fool. Danse was frowning at him thoughtfully, clearly wanting to ask what had happened, but not willing to embarrass his friend further in front of the pilot. He glanced at his friend and just shook his head. He didn’t even know where to begin to explain how wrong he’d gotten everything.

Once aboard the Prydwen, Arthur headed straight for his quarters, Danse a comforting shadow behind him. The paladin spoke the moment the door closed behind them.

“Arthur, what happened?”

He focused on wrestling his ridiculous coat off. “I...made a miscalculation.”

“A miscalculation?”

“Yes.”

Danse sighed, “What did you do?”

He struggled to untie his ascot and the paladin had to finally step in before he choked himself, not that he’d mind death’s sweet embrace at this point. “I kissed Ella.”

His friend paused in untying the stubborn knot and stared at him for a moment. “You kissed her.”

“Yes. Outside her quarters.”

He thought for a moment, “So you followed her first?”

Arthur winced at the image of him stalking her, “Yes.”

“Okay. I’m guessing that didn’t go well.”

“No, it did not.”

“She objected.”

“Yes, she did. Most strenuously.”

Danse shook his head, “You’re lucky she wasn’t armed.”

“Given her rather violent reaction, I’m inclined to agree with you there.”

The ascot was finally defeated and his friend stepped back so he could continue to shuck off the clothing. “Did you apologize?”

Arthur sighed, “I didn’t have the chance. She was...very angry and then her attendant showed up.”

“Deacon caught you?”

He wanted to argue he hadn’t been ‘caught’ doing anything, but it was as apt a description as anything else. “Yes.”

“Lucky again. If it had been Hancock or MacCready, an...incident may have occurred. Deacon at least has tact.” He loosened his own ascot and sat at Arthur’s desk. “Alright, well...what do we do now?”

He grabbed a basic officer’s uniform from his locker and stepped into it, immediately feeling more in control and relaxed. “How the hell am I supposed to know? What do you think we should do?”

“I think you shouldn’t have kissed her to begin with. What were you thinking?”

“I thought...I thought she wanted to, Danse, obviously! When have you ever known me to force myself on a woman?”

“Never, of course. You’ve never had to even _pursue_ anyone before.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Neither have I, for that matter...we may need someone with expertise in this arena.”

Arthur flopped on his bed and rubbed his temples. This one night was more stressful than the entirety of his Commonwealth campaign. “And who do you suggest we ask? Quinlan? Fat lot of good his advice did.” If it hadn’t been for his counsel about ‘subtle signals’, none of this would have happened in the first place.

“Of course not. I was thinking Cade.”

“Cade.”

“Yes.”

“Why him?” If there was one person he didn’t want to share this particular shame with, it was the Knight-Captain.

“Well...he was married once. His wife passed when they were young, but from what he’s told me, it was a love-match. He courted her and all. He’s probably got the most experience out of anyone for this sort of thing.” He raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “Or, we could always ask a woman for their opinion. I’m sure Neriah or Ingram would have a _lot_ to say about this particular topic.”

The idea of confessing what he’d done to either woman was nauseating. “No, no let’s not involve them. It wouldn’t be...let’s just ask Cade.”

Danse gave him a sympathetic look, “I know this is difficult for you, Arthur. Do you want me to stay while you speak with him?”

And have two witnesses to his shame? No, thank you. “That’s quite alright, Paladin. I’m sure I’ll be fine...thank you, though.”

“It’s no trouble. Will you call him through Kells or would you rather I go get him?”

It was SOP for all official requests to go through Kells, but that would mean the captain would know the Elder was meeting privately with the ship’s physician. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all. I was heading that way anyway.” He stood and stretched a bit. “I’ll change out of this monkey suit first if you don’t mind, sir.”

“That’s fine.”

“You may want to apply a cold compress to your face as well. She got you good. Ella always did have a hell of a right hook.”

He sighed, “It was a slap, but thank you, Paladin.”

Danse nodded and left his chambers. Arthur gingerly felt his still-warm cheek and winced a bit. It _had_ been a hell of a hit, with more force behind it than he’d thought she was capable of. By the time Cade respectfully knocked on his door, he had an ice pack in place and was doing his best to appear calm and nonchalant.

“Enter.”

Cade poked his head in, “Hello, Elder. Paladin Danse said...what the hell happened to your face?”

He motioned the older man in. “That’s actually part of what I’d like to talk to you about.”

He walked in and sat across the table from Arthur. “And why are you back so early?”

“I had an...unpleasant encounter with Sentinel Bradley and I require your assistance to...mitigate the fallout.”

His eyebrows rose. “Ah...alright. Start at the beginning.”

Arthur went through the entire humiliating ordeal with him, internally cringing at how boorish he sounded to his own ears and how Cade’s expression kept wavering between shock and severe disapproval. When he finally finished, the two men sat in heavy contemplation for a moment.

Cade finally broke the silence. “My professional opinion is...we need whiskey for this.” He got up and helped himself to a generous pour before setting the bottle and clean glass in front of the Elder. “I have a few questions, Elder.”

“Of course.” He poured a few fingers and welcomed the comforting burn that ran down his throat.

“First, above anything else, what are your intentions with the sentinel?”

He frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is she a candidate for Lady Maxson, or is this just skirt-chasing?”

“I’m not _skirt-chasing,_ Cade.” Such things were beneath an Elder.

“So she’s a candidate then? Officially?”

He refilled his glass and stared into its depths. “I...hadn’t considered it.” And he hadn’t. Not in a serious sort of way. He may have entertained increasingly fantastic daydreams about her growing heavy with his children, and all the ways he could make that happen, but had he ever really considered the reality of being married to such a volatile sort of woman? No, absolutely not. The title of Lady Maxson had always been granted to women who were self-possessed and steady, going all the way back to the first. Calm, sweet-tempered women who knew how to keep the home fires steadily burning while their lords were out doing battle.

Ella as Lady Maxson would be an unmitigated disaster. He was liable to come home to an entirely unrecognizable Brotherhood, if she didn’t burn it all to the ground first.

Cade frowned at him, “So this was all supposed to be...what, a bit of fun?”

The disapproval in his voice was extremely distressing to Arthur, even if he gave no outward indication. “I suppose.”

“Has she ever struck you as that sort of woman?”

Her face, shocked and angrily defiant when he’d reminded her of her widowhood, flashed through his mind. “No, of course not.”

“Of _course_ not. Ella is a lot of things, but she’s always been a lady first.” He sighed, “I may turn a blind-eye to most of the personal shenanigans you young people get up to on this ship, but I do notice things, Arthur. You’re not inexperienced when it comes to the fairer sex...and you know how to read people. How on earth did you delude yourself enough to let this happen?”

He’d only been asking himself that question since leaving the Castle. “I don’t know.”

“I wasn’t even aware that you were particularly close with her.”

“I’m not.”

Cade shook his head, “This was a foolhardy thing to do, Elder. Impulsive...and very unlike you.”

“I know.”

“But...you are young. It can be easy at times to forget, but you are still very young for all your authority.” He shrugged, “That might give you a chance at earning her forgiveness.”

“She did call me ‘young man’ at one point.”

He chuckled. “Oh, that’s brutal. I bet that took the wind right out of your sails, didn’t it?”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Perhaps.” He’d felt twelve years old and all of two feet tall when she’d called him that.

“Alright, well...first, we need to figure out where you want to be with her after this gets resolved.”

“Where I want to be?”

“Yes. Do you wish to be her friend? Something more? Or just maintain a professional relationship?”

“I...I’d like to be her friend. She said she wanted us to be friends when we danced.”

Cade sighed heavily, “And then you went and tried to get under her skirt...we might want to shoot for something a little less ambitious. At least for now.”

He nodded, “Alright. Whatever you think is best. You’re the expert here.”

“I am?”

“Yes, Paladin Danse said....he said you’d had a healthy relationship with your wife. That you understood women.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Christ. It’s the blind leading the blind here. Elder Maxson, having a good relationship with _one_ woman does not make me an expert on _all_ women.”

“Oh...of course. Of course not.” It did sound ridiculous when he said it out loud.

“But I think I can help you a bit here. We’ll give her a few days to cool down, then you’ll send her a letter. I’d have Danse deliver it, so you can get a proper account of her reaction.”

He nodded, “Yes, that sounds good.”

“And you’re going to take the next few days to craft the perfect apology.”

“Right.”

“And I’ll proofread it before you send it out.”

“Naturally.”

“So let’s start with the easy part. What you are apologizing for?”

“For...upsetting her?”

“And?”

“And...for assuming her offer of friendship meant something more?”

“Very good. I think we might have a real chance here, Elder Maxson.” He stood and patted him on the shoulder. “For tonight though, I suggest you get some rest and try to resist the urge for self-flagellation. We all stumble a bit in life. There’s no shame in it so long as you do your best to learn from the experience.”

Arthur nodded, “Right. Thank you, Cade. For everything.”

Cade smiled gently at him, “You’re welcome, son.”


	4. Article III - The Treaty of Diamond City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a smut free chapter. I will make it all up to you later, I promise. ;)

**_Part I_ **

**_“Never let your correspondence fall behind.” - Abraham Lincoln_ **

  


It ended up taking Arthur almost a solid week to write a letter Cade was satisfied with. He’d been reminded, repeatedly, that this apology was not about him. It was about letting Ella know how wrong he’d been. As if she didn’t clearly already know.

He didn’t see how trying to explain himself was making it all about him, but he had to trust the Knight-Captain’s exacting standards. He’d told Arthur that when he’d written a letter he felt his wife would have approved of, then and only then would he sign off on sending it. Surely there was no better quality control than that.

In the end, his letter was only one page. He’d had to cut huge swaths of text out, all the parts about how he’d read certain things wrong and how confusing the entire experience had been for him were superfluous in Cade’s eyes. Arthur worried over the impersonal feel the final product had, but even Danse agreed leaving emotions out of it was a good idea. Their goal was to ensure the Minutemen continued to work with them and that Ella didn’t resign from the Brotherhood at this point. Anything beyond that could be worked out at a later date.

Finally, Cade approved the document and Arthur sent it, along with a small box of melon drops, a confection created by a new recruit turned cook that had become popular on-board, to sweeten the pot a bit. Danse was happy for the errand, as it would possibly bring him into proximity with his little prize fighter. (Who, Arthur knew, he’d not actually _had_ contact with beyond a polite, if quietly awkward, dance at the ball.)

He left just after lunch and Arthur had approved the use of a vertibird to speed things along. There was no set return time, but he’d assumed his friend would return to the Prydwen by dinner at the latest.

When the clock struck midnight, he started to get a little irritated.

By two a.m., he gave up and went to bed.

Danse was there at mess for breakfast, happily eating a bowl of oatmeal like he didn’t have a care in the world. Arthur gave him an impatient look over his own bowl and had to hold it for almost a minute before his friend finally flushed a bit and seemed to get the message.

They both retreated to Arthur’s quarters and he sat at his table, tapping the top impatiently until Danse carefully set her response in front of him.

He stared at the sealed envelope and tried to not explode. “Well?”

The paladin shrugged, “She responded.”

Arthur frowned, “Really? That’s all you’ve got? ‘She responded.’ Thank goodness I sent you, my most trusted advisor and friend, on this particular mission. For fucks sake, Danse. Come on!”

“I can’t really tell you much more than that, Arthur. She wouldn’t talk to me about any of it.”

Oh, that sounded bad. “She wouldn’t?”

“No, sir. We talked about the dance, of course...and Miss Cait. She had some invaluable advice regarding that, but she wouldn’t speak of you except to ask if you were feeling better yet.”

He winced. “Okay, well...what happened exactly?”

“I arrived at the Castle, but she wasn’t there. I was told vertibirds aren’t allowed on the island, so I took the ferry.”

“They aren’t allowed?”

“Yes, Xavier was quite clear on that.”

“Who?”

“The Castle’s chief security officer. He was the man standing next to Deacon at the party.”

Ah, the other bespectacled man who’d radiated hatred so well. “Alright, so you took the ferry?”

“Yes. The island’s community is quite pleasant. Prosperous like most of her settlements. Seemed a little more technologically advanced to me. Ella told me later that the island is where they test out new inventions before implementing them elsewhere though, so it’s mostly engineers and the like. Curie lives there, actually.”

“Smart.”

“Quite. Her home is on the far eastern side of the island though, so it took a bit to get there.”

“You saw her house? What’s it like?”

Danse looked confused, “I...like a house? Sturdy? Yellow.”

Arthur suppressed a frustrated sigh and nodded, “Continue.”

“She was home, luckily. Offered me juice and let me store my power armor in her workshop. She seemed happy to see me.”

He nodded, “Good, that’s good.”

His friend looked a little uncomfortable, “She wasn’t, however, happy to see your letter, I think.”

“Oh.”

“She...initially shoved it in a drawer. I told her you were expecting a reply to come back with me and she had me go in the kitchen while she worked on it in her room.”

“Her room?”

“Yes, it doubles as her unofficial office. She has a typewriter there.” He straightened up a little and looked oddly proud. “I got to assist with dinner while she wrote it.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You assisted with dinner?”

“Meatloaf. I had to put it in when the timer went off and then reset the timer for an hour.” He smiled, “I’ve never helped make a real dinner before outside of field missions.”

He hadn’t either and felt mildly jealous. “What’s a meatloaf?”

“Ground brahmin, bread crumbs, vegetables and spices. All pressed into a pan and baked in the oven with a sweet tato sauce. Very nutritious.”

And about a million times better sounding than the slop they usually served. “Ah, of course...how long did it take her to reply?”

Danse frowned thoughtfully, “Before it was finished, but after Shaun showed me how to put the glaze on, so...forty-five minutes, maybe?”

“You met Shaun?”

He beamed, “Yes, sir, I did. Fine boy. Tall, of course. Ella says he takes after his father that way. Very intelligent. Had a wonderful conversation about possible ways to enhance the longevity of fusion cores.”

Sounded like an odd conversation to have with a typical ten year old to Arthur. “Fusion cores? Really?”

“Yes, that was after he saw my power armor, of course. He’s going to make a fine little soldier someday, sir. He told me he wants to be a Minuteman once his mother allows it and his goal is to join the heavy cavalry.”

“The Minutemen have heavy cavalry?”

“I...guess they do.”

“Okay, well...why were you so late?”

“Oh.” He smiled apologetically. “I am sorry about that, Elder. Ella insisted I stay for dinner since I had helped, and then I wanted to help her clean up since she had fed me and all. Then Shaun wanted to show me his room and his inventions and, before I knew it, it was his bedtime and I’d missed the last ferry. Ella had to radio the operator so he’d come and take me back across.” He shrugged, “You were asleep by the time I returned, so…”

His friend seemed to have no idea how he’d just spent an entire day in one of Arthur’s favorite daydreams. The one where he was just a normal soldier and Ella was just a normal woman and they could ignore the world and live an extraordinary ordinary life together. “Was the meatloaf good?”

Danse grinned, “Delicious. I had her write the recipe down for our cooks so they can recreate it for you.”

As if rationing would ever allow for that. “Thank you, Paladin. That will be all.”

He hesitated before getting up, “Are you sure you don’t want me here while you read it, sir?”

“No, I...this is clearly something she wishes to keep between us. I’ll respect that.”

“Alright. I’ll be assisting Scribe Neriah if you need me.”

He waved him away, “Yes, that’s fine.” The letter was in his hand as soon as the door closed.

She’d even typed his name on the outside of the envelope. It felt...impersonal. Terribly so. The wax seal on the flap bore the Minutemen crossed musket and lightning bolt. Also impersonal. Had she responded as the General or as her?

He shook his head. There was no sense in putting it off and letting his mind come up with dire situations. It was just a letter, wasn’t it? She hadn’t had Danse bodily thrown off the Island, after all. She’d fed him, for goodness sake. How angry could she possibly be?

Arthur carefully worked the envelope open and took out a folded letter. Her response was barely two paragraphs, clear and strangely concise for something that took almost an hour to craft.

It simply read:

 

_Dear Elder Maxson,_

_I am very glad to hear you have recovered and now find yourself in good health and spirits. I’m only sorry that you weren’t able to fully enjoy the festivities at the Ball, including our banquet dinner and fireworks. Hopefully, next time you’ll be able to properly participate._

_The Minutemen continue to enjoy our working relationship with the Brotherhood of Steel and are excited to see what new adventures lie in store for you all once you depart the Commonwealth._

_Sincerely, General Elinor Bradley, Commonwealth Minutemen_

He read over it a few times, absorbing all the ways each sentence could be taken and sighing heavily. If he was reading it correctly, and he was pretty sure he was since this time she’d left no room for misinterpretation, she was willing to look past his egregious faux pas and keep working with them but definitely wanted the entire Brotherhood to leave her territory as soon as possible.

Arthur laid his head on the tabletop for a moment, enjoying how cool the metal felt against his forehead. He turned just a bit and stared at the envelope, frowning when he saw a small scrap of paper still tucked in it.

He sat back up and shook it out. It looked like something torn from that notebook she was always carrying around. There was another note on it, this time in her own handwriting. Just one sentence but it was enough to bring a real smile to his face.

 

_Forgiven and forgotten. -E_

 

He set the scrap next to the proper letter and tried to make sense of it all. The typed letter must be the official response. Something neat and tidy for their records, perhaps? The scrap was clearly meant for his eyes only.

His fingers traced the letters carefully, smiling again when he got to the looping E at the end. He breathed deeply and tried to imagine her at her little desk, in her no-doubt charming bedroom on that far off island. She’d clearly put a lot of work into the official letter, crafting something that was professional and wouldn’t embarrass either party. Firm but kind. Diplomatic.

He was actually very impressed at her skill. It seemed at odds with the temperamental whirlwind he was used to dealing with.

And the fact that she’d gone to the trouble of sneaking in a more direct, personal note was...well, it was something. He honestly wasn’t sure about that. Was this her attempting once again to be friends or...no. Going down that path again was madness. There wasn’t anything else. This was clearly an open invite to friendship and nothing more.

He’d learned all too well what assuming could bring you.

His eyes landed on a map of the Commonwealth tacked up on the wall. Spectacle Island. If the entire thing was a settlement, that easily made it her largest. He knew Sanctuary was the first, the Castle was the crown jewel, so what was the Island? Merely a laboratory? Someplace innovation could be encouraged while keeping the rest of her settlements safe? It was a good idea. A great one, actually, to have the Minutemen’s top scientists and engineers in one central location that was isolated and easily safeguarded. They must have some sort of advanced defense system as well. Her son wouldn’t live there otherwise.

An idea formed in his head and he tapped his fingers on the table, considering. She’d seen the Prydwen, of course. And their outpost in the Cambridge police station. He knew she’d extensively toured the airport, as well.

Asking for a tour of the settlement wouldn’t be overstepping, would it? Or perhaps just hinting at it?

The logical, careful side of him said he should really check with Cade or Danse first. Their advice and cautious plan of attack had been quite helpful in reopening the lines of communication between them.

Then again, this was such a simple thing to ask. He was the Elder, after all. He shouldn’t have to go running to his advisers for every little thing. The Brotherhood counted on him being his own man, didn’t they?

He sat at his terminal and drafted another letter to the General.

 

_Dear General Bradley,_

_Thank you for your letter. The Brotherhood is awaiting the return of our brothers and sisters who were dispatched to Chicago before planning of our next move can commence. Currently we are continuing our salvage operation of the CIT/Institute ruins. Your first hand knowledge of the facility remains invaluable._

_Paladin Danse was quite complementary in regards to the community you have founded on Spectacle Island. I understand it’s the home of your engineering and science corps. He also mentioned your son’s interest in science and Brotherhood technology vis-a-vis power armor._

_As you may or may not know, I myself have a healthy interest in such things. In the interest of continuing the mutually beneficial friendship the Minutemen and Brotherhood enjoy, perhaps a tour of the Island could be arranged?_

_If this is acceptable to you, please have your people make arrangements through Paladin Danse._

_I look forward to your next correspondence._

_Warmest regards, Elder Arthur Maxson, Brotherhood of Steel_

 

There. That wasn’t so difficult. He couldn’t imagine why it had taken her so long to write her own missive. He read it over a few times, first trying it in his own voice and then imagining her reading it out loud to see how it sounded and felt it was suitable. His first olive branch had been successful, despite her not mentioning the melon drops, which bothered him a bit. Surely this letter was the logical next step in repairing their working relationship.

He sent it out with the next Minutemen provisioner who stopped by the airport. It would have been much faster to have Danse deliver it himself, but he wasn’t willing to turn his friend into his private messenger boy just yet.

In any case, it gave him time to get his head on straight. His people seemed oddly rattled lately, and were almost falling over themselves to obey his commands when he finally gave them. He could only assume it was due to his own lack of confidence in himself these past few weeks that they felt the need to be so solicitous. That wouldn’t do.

He also had that special project with Ingram to get started. The one he was hoping he could entice Ella back to the Prydwen.

It took over a week for his note to reach the Castle and get transported across to the Island. Three more passed before another returned. It appeared in his personal correspondence basket and he frowned at how pristine the envelope was.

It had been so long a part of him had hoped maybe it had been temporarily lost.

After a nerve-steadying shot of whiskey, he carefully opened it.

 

_Dear Elder Maxson,_

_While I personally would be only too happy to give you a tour of our home, this settlement acts as a refuge for those who are unable to endure the hardships of the Wasteland at large. After the unforeseen commotion caused by Paladin Danse’s visit (pleasant though it was), I fear that the arrival of the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel would simply be far too distressing to some of our people._

_You and I know better, of course, but the Brotherhood does have something of a reputation in the Commonwealth of running roughshod over our citizen’s rights._

_I hope you can understand and I apologize for any dissatisfaction this may cause you. We are both, at the end of the day, more our office than ourselves at times. This is one of those times._

_Sincerely, General Elinor Bradley, Commonwealth Minutemen_

 

Well...not exactly the answer he’d been hoping for. Arthur checked and rechecked the envelope, but there was no secret note this time. Her words in the letter stood alone.

He sighed to himself and tucked the message away. This one didn’t need to be filed in the official record.

There were times that the mantle of Elder chafed him something fierce. Rare instances where it stood between him and what he actually wanted. Her settlers would see him coming as some kind of declarative statement of impending conquest instead of the simple look-see it actually was.

Now that he was thinking about it, sending Danse in full power armor had definitely been a mistake. He should have at least sent him in a simple jumpsuit, if not civvies. At least he’d not repeated it.

The Maxson name was a gift, but it could also be a curse. It had gotten his mother killed, possibly his father, too. Now it was hampering his ability to…

To what? Make amends with Ella? That had already been accomplished.

His frustration at not being able to visit her personal home was completely irrational. He could always meet her at the Castle, or ask that she come here. Diamond City was also an option if she wanted a truly neutral location.

But he didn’t want a neutral location. He wanted to see her yellow seaside cottage. Meet her boy. See her as she was everyday, instead of the guarded or outright irascible woman he was used to dealing with. The small glimpse of the real Ella he’d seen when he and Danse first visited the Castle had planted a slowly blooming preoccupation with knowing her true self that was swiftly becoming far more than just an annoying distraction.

Those few minutes before he’d gone and spoiled everything at the ball kept playing over and over in his mind, too. The way she’d been so relaxed and civil. How she’d actually smiled and laughed while they spoke like they were old friends. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was so important that she see him as a friend and equal, but it _was._ Having someone around that he couldn’t pull rank on was refreshing. Freeing, somehow.

He almost had that connection with Paladin Danse, but he knew that his friend would back down if he pressed the issue; no matter what sort of indelicate activities they may be engaged in. Even stripped completely bare, he was still Danse’s Elder, and he knew the man would fold like a house of cards if he forced it.

Ella though? She’d dig in and fight him. There was absolutely nothing about him, or the Brotherhood, that inspired any kind of subservience in her.

Arthur could still see the fire in her, the way she’d been ready to draw blood and physically fight him, despite their almost comical difference in strength and size, after that one foolish kiss. It haunted him at times, truth be told. Almost more than how she’d felt in his arms and how soft her lips were or how sweet she’d tasted.

Not that he would ever be seriously interested in a woman who didn’t know when to capitulate, of course. Especially when that woman would one day wear the mantle of Lady Maxson.

He sighed heavily. Life would be infinitely easier if his mother had just declined that particular honor.

He could imagine himself as just another soldier. Perhaps he would have taken the assignment to come back east of his own volition, instead of having it decided for him as a child. He could make his way up the ranks the proper way. No extra lessons with Star Paladins or special treatment from his comrades.

What would his rank be if he had done things the hard way? Knight, maybe? Or would his superiors have noticed his natural talent by now if the Maxson name hadn’t been there to cast its harsh spotlight on him?

He’d adored reading and science as a boy. Maybe he would have gone the scribe route? But then again, he did truly love power armor. The freedom, the security, the strength. It was probably silly, but he felt safer and more himself in his T-60 than he did anywhere else.

Really, he envied Ella, when you got right down to it. She was somehow able to maintain her sense of self completely independent of whatever titles she may hold. Her Minutemen were well-trained and followed orders, but still treated her as one of them instead of holding her to some ridiculous mythos. Even her status as ‘The Vault Dweller’, as they called her on Diamond City Radio failed to keep distance between her and the rest of the wasteland rabble. From the reports he’d read, everyone seemed to follow an unspoken command that if she wasn’t in her uniform, she was just...Ella. That was remarkable to him.

Arthur couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually worn civilian clothes, but he was fairly certain even if he did, his men would still treat him with the exact same amount of deference they showed when he was in full uniform.

He paused at that. _His_ men might, but would hers? Would anyone even recognize him if he wore the same rags everyone else did?

Did her settlers have any idea of what he actually looked like, or where they just vigilant against proper Brotherhood attire?

His scar was distinctive, and known, sure, but that could easily be covered, couldn’t it?

The idea, once formed, was irresistible.

Timing was all wrong though. He’d need to get access to some place that sold clothing and then somehow figure out a way to slip past his own men _and_ hers. That meant he’d need a plausible reason to be off-ship.

He frowned at himself. When he really thought about it, the Prydwen seemed more prison than floating fortress. His comrades more jailers than actual friends. On one hand, of course he was beholden to the Brotherhood as its Elder. His safety was paramount and his location at all times should be known.

On the other hand, he was a fully grown man. His business should be able to remain his business, shouldn’t it? His officers were _his officers,_ not his wardens.

A rare rebellious wave of emotions rolled over him. While others had been busy sneaking off to sow wild oats, he’d been trapped in a position of command. Every soldier on his ship had been able to mold their life into something they wanted. Shouldn’t he have the same opportunity?

It wasn’t like he was asking for a lot. Setting aside the mantle of Elder for _one day_ surely wouldn’t cause a calamity, would it?

Arthur checked his desk clock. Paladin Danse should be off ship, helping sort through provisions or training squires. Maybe they could just have a little chat.

He made his way down to the airport and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. It wasn’t lost on him that work tended to come to a screeching halt whenever he appeared, his subordinates dropping whatever they were doing to salute him or offer up platitudes. Even when they returned to their duties, having the Elder in attendance, even if he wasn’t actively paying attention, tended to make them almost comically incompetent.

Finding Danse was easy, for once. All he had to do was follow the sound of Piper Wright’s indignant squawking.

“...see this is ridiculous? Child soldiers, Danse? Really? They’re kids! They should be out doing kid stuff!”

Danse kept his eyes on the squires doing their best to hit targets at one hundred yards with laser rifles and sighed heavily. “Piper, none of this is your business...and you may only see children, but these are Brotherhood squires. Every one of them has been extensively trained and briefed on range safety. They’re perfectly fine.”

“But they go in the field, too, right? That’s what Blue said. Said she got into it with some asshole because she wouldn’t take one out to College Square with her to clear ferals.”

The long-suffering look on the paladin’s face was enough to make Arthur stay put behind a stack of supply crates. Maybe if he just waited long enough, she’d leave and he’d never have to deal with her at all.

“Sentinel Bradley’s feelings on squires are well known. It doesn’t change the fact that field experience, under close supervision, is one of the best ways a squire can learn to stay safe in hazardous situations.”

Piper snorted, “Yeah, except, you know, not being put in those situations at all.”

“Och, come off it, Piper. Little excitement never hurt anyone.”

Faint color came into the Paladin’s cheeks. “Thank you, Cait.”

“And anyway, we dunno, maybe the Brotherhood’s hurtin’ for soldiers. Gotta train up the next bunch so they, too, can heroically die in vertibird crashes, right?”

Piper snickered, “Did you see that one on our way out of Diamond City? How embarrassing do you think it is to be taken out by a lone raider with a pipe pistol anyway?”

“Couldn’t be worse than the shame of comin’ all this way just to have El blow the Institute up right under your nose.”

Arthur decided the paladin had suffered enough and stepped around the corner into the sunlight and cleared his throat.

The relief on Danse’s face was palatable. “Elder Maxson. You know Piper, of course. This is Cait.”

He folded his arms and stared them down, “Yes, hello. I was unaware that we’d become a popular tourist destination for civilians. While we do not discourage visitors, we do ask that you kindly remember that this is an active military base and treat it, and it’s residents, with respect.”

Piper’s eyebrow went up and she scoffed, “Still looks like an airport to me, Artie.”

Cait just held his stare and shifted her weight a bit. “Respect is _earned_ in the Commonwealth, handsome.”

He wondered if Ella naturally attracted disrespectful people to her or if she gave lessons. “What, exactly, brings you here today?”

Piper held up an envelope. “Courier.”

Cait grinned, “And I’m runnin’ as chaperone. Boss said she wasn’t comfortable sending a lady to the Brotherhood unescorted anymore...wonder why that is, exactly?”

He ignored the question in favor of his own. “Piper’s a lady? Since when?” He fully expected an outburst that would give him a perfect excuse to have her thrown off the base, but she just laughed.

“Well, well, well. Look who grew a personality.”

Danse glowered at her, “Piper, I believe you had a letter to deliver?”

She tried to wipe the smirk off her face but failed miserably. “Right, right. Alrighty, Artie, you know how it goes. I read, you listen.” She tore the envelope open with far less care than he would have and cleared her throat. “Here we go. Dear Elder Maxson, You are cordially invited to the unification and peaceable co-existence treaty signing between the various factions of the Commonwealth. Your participation is not required, but welcome. Our host will be Diamond City, and we are expecting representatives from every major settlement, Minutemen or otherwise. Our goal is to create a lasting and beneficial peace to ensure the continued growth of our region. Should the Brotherhood wish to stay in our territories post signing, sending a delegation would help immensely, as many of my fellow Bostontonians have several questions that I, Sentinel or not, feel unqualified to answer. The signing will take place on Halloween, October 31st, 2289 at noon. If you do plan on attending, please ask Piper to make lodging arrangements. Sincerely yours, General Elinor Bradley.”

Arthur held out his hand for the letter and read it for himself. A treaty? He’d heard of the Commonwealth attempting something like this before, long before his time. A few well placed synths had managed to destroy it before the fledgling government even had a chance.

“Who’s providing security?”

Cait scoffed irritably at the question, but Piper answered. “Diamond City security and the Minutemen.”

He frowned a bit at that, “Those ridiculous buffoons in baseball uniforms?”

She chuckled, “Yeah. Them.”

They’d be about as useful as a child with a slingshot. “I was unaware that the Minutemen were well versed in urban security measures.”

She shrugged. “Well, they weren’t, but since the Minutemen absorbed the Railroad, they’ve got the Heavies. Blue calls them the Commonwealth Security Task Force now.” She grinned and it was just a touch feral and off-putting. “They know their shit.”

Cait grinned, too. “Yeah, especially Glory. Their angel o’ death.”

Danse looked horrified, “The Minutemen _absorbed_ the Railroad?”

“Yup.”

Arthur was right there with him, “When did this happen?”

Piper hummed thoughtfully, “Hmm. Been a while. Just after they blew up the Institute, I guess? Formally, anyway.”

He scowled at the very idea. “Seems the Minutemen really do accept _anyone_ into their ranks.”

“Aye, they do.” Cait folded her arms and scowled back at him.

This was an argument for another time and place altogether. Arthur shook his head a bit and turned his attention back to Piper. “What’s this about accommodations?”

“There’s limited space in Diamond City, so we’ve got to find out how many people are actually attending this shindig. The Minutemen have a recruitment office that can house a few, some of the upper stands assholes are _graciously_ offering their homes for the more important ambassadors. I think Geneva’s gonna set up bunks in the old Mayor’s quarters. Then there’s the Dugout, of course, but you don’t want to stay there. It’s gross.”

“And _loud.”_

“Yeah, gross and loud.”

“Why would I want to stay in the city at all?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Because there’s more than just the signing, Artie. Jeez. Blue’s throwing some big outdoor breakfast for everybody and the Taphouse is hosting the dinner after. She says it's important to foster relationships, not just alliances. So, you in or not?”

Relationships and not just alliances. Now that was interesting. Directed at him personally, or…? “Yes, of course. The Brotherhood will attend. You may tell her that Paladin Danse and I will be there.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Yes...how many were you expecting?”

She shrugged, “I think Blue had hoped you’d let Cade and Neriah come, too. There’s a science center in Diamond City they’d probably be interested in.”

Cade probably wouldn’t mind a little vacation, but prying Neriah from her mole rats would require an act of God. “Perhaps Cade will attend.”

“So...maybe three?”

“Yes.”

She jotted it down in her little notebook and nodded, “Alright...there’s still room in the Minutemen’s offices for three. You’ll be sharing space with the a few of the settlement delegations. Is that alright?”

He had no idea who any of those people would be, but nodded anyway. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Alrighty. Got you down for three. Breakfast will be at nine sharp.” She stuffed the notebook back in her pocket. “I’d get there early. Blue’s hotcakes go like...well...like hotcakes.”

Cait snorted, “Och, she’d save him a few. You know how she can’t bear to let children go hungry.”

Piper snickered a little, like there was some inside joke there. “That’s true. She’d probably at least save you one.”

Arthur decided ignoring it altogether was the right way to go. “Is there anything else, ladies?”

“Well, now that you mention is...Kari’s not busy, is she? Uh...Cait wanted to meet her.”

Cait blinked at Piper for a second before nodding, “Sure. Yup. Been wantin’ to meet her for awhile now. Heard, uh...heard a lot about her.” Piper elbowed her in the ribs and she returned the favor with interest, smiling at the peevish whining that followed. “You could arrange that, right, Artie?”

Ingram was probably going to skin him alive, but he needed them out of his hair, and he knew any favor he granted Piper would eventually find its way to Ella’s ear. “Of course. Go to the helipad and tell them I said you had permission to board the Prydwen.”

“Great! Thanks! See you in Diamond City!” Piper shoved Cait along with her and he watched them go before turning to Danse.

“Well. That was informative.”

“Ingram isn’t going to be happy with you.”

He shrugged, “I needed them out of the way. This will keep them distracted for at least a couple of hours.” He unfolded the letter and looked it over again. “We need to talk strategy.”

Danse looked towards the squires and frowned, “Strategy for what?”

“For...for the impression we wish to make, of course. Ella’s letter says they have questions about us.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Arthur…”

He sighed, “And how I should approach Ella.”

“There you go.”

“It’s going to be our first in person contact since...the ball. I just want to make sure it goes well.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t?”

He put the letter in his pocket and pretended to observe the squires. “I’m sure I don’t know. Things with her seem to have a habit of going sideways.”

Danse chuckled, “That’s true. I think so long as you behave yourself, it will be fine. She’s going to have her hands full with all the different factions. Chances are the two of you will barely speak a few words to each other.”

He frowned at that. It was probably true, but it wasn’t what he’d wanted for their next meeting.

His friend noticed his sour expression and sighed, “Alright, what did you _want_ to happen?”

Lying to him wasn’t an option. “I...I’d hoped to see her at home, actually. Like you did.”

“So why didn’t you? You’ve been back on amicable terms for a while now.”

“I asked. She said no.” He grumbled and refused to acknowledge the chastising glare that immediately bloomed on Danse’s face.

“She said _no,_ and you were going to go anyway, weren’t you?”

He fought hard to hold onto the mantle of Elder in the face of this infuriatingly reasonable reprimand. “Her concern was about my status as a member of the Brotherhood, not my actual presence in her home. I’d thought...if I could go as a civilian--”

Danse laughed, “You? In some Wastelander disguise? That was your brilliant plan?”

The mocking tone in his voice was a step too far. “You forget yourself, Paladin.”

His friend immediately schooled his face and nodded. “Apologies, Elder.”

“Acknowledged.”

They returned to watching the squires and Arthur wrestled with his frustration. On one hand, he could clearly see Danse’s point. On the other, he was High Elder, dammit. If he wanted something, he should be able to go and do the damn thing. He also didn’t care for the reminder of Danse’s obedience, either, which made zero sense to him since he’d been the one to pull rank. Ella wouldn’t have backed down. She’d have laughed in his face and pushed right back.

It occurred to him that Piper or Cait or any of her other hooligan friends would have as well, but what was unthinkably rude and irritating on them was somehow invigorating and engaging on her. That was also annoying.

He nudged Danse’s shoulder with his own in an unspoken apology. “We should be prepared for hostilities.”

Danse glanced over at him and nodded. Apology accepted. “True. We know Goodneighbor will be against our involvement. The Slog, too, probably...civility should be our top priority. It can be...difficult, but showing we can work even with those the Brotherhood considers abominations will go a long way with everyone.”

His nose wrinkled at the idea of playing nice with a bunch of ghouls. “Seems reasonable, if...offensive.”

“Hancock in particular isn’t going to let us off easy. He’s...unique. Only been a ghoul for a few years and people in Diamond City will still remember him as John McDonough. He’s charming, in his way...intelligent and educated. And as sharp as his knife is, it's nothing compared to his tongue.” He shook his head, “We should focus on turning him to our side, or at least showing him how polite we can be. Ella takes great stock in his opinion, and if he’s at least neutral to us, it will help immensely.”

The ghoul he remembered from the ball had seemed crass and vulgar to him. “Charming and intelligent? Really?”

Danse chuckled, “You’ve never seen him on the job, Elder. When he’s acting as Mayor he’s formidable.”

Arthur sighed, “Fine. We’ll...play nice with him. Perhaps overtures can be made in advance. We have a couple of weeks before the meeting. What sort of things does he like?”

“Chems. Sex. Violence. Not necessarily in that order.”

“That’s not very helpful.”

“Maybe we could send him one of those new knives Teagan’s been working on.”

“The karambits or the folding knives?”

“Folding. Hancock isn’t really one for defensive moves.”

“What does he carry now?”

“An old, standard issue USMC Ka-Bar.”

“Christ.” They’d been manufactured during World War II and were said to be enough to take down a bear, the yao guai’s larger pre-war equivalent. “That’s old school.”

“He’s something of a history buff.”

“Hmm...well, the folding knives hold an edge longer. Easier to hide, too...and Teagan’s craftsmanship is unparalleled. He’d probably appreciate something like that.”

“And perhaps a handwritten note from the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel to go along with it?”

Arthur smiled, “Perhaps.”

  


**_Part II_ **

**_“Diplomacy is the art of telling people to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions.” - Winston Churchill_ **

 

Arthur, Danse and Cade arrived in Diamond City the night before Halloween via vertibird. A small crowd gathered to watch them touchdown and Arthur couldn’t help but notice caps exchange hands when they successfully landed without incident.

Apparently they really did need to sharpen up their pilots’ skills a bit.

Danse led them into the city, explaining the layout as they went and even going so far as to introduce them to Nat, Piper’s sister who was busy hocking newspapers. She gave them a suspicious kind of glare, told them to watch themselves, and promptly went back to selling copies of the paper.

Arthur was pretty sure she was going to grow up to be exactly like her big sister and felt deep sympathy for whoever had to deal with her on a daily basis.

There was a noodle stand right in the middle of town that seemed very popular and Cade perked up a bit at it. He’d been a fan of the noodle bowls since they’d touched down in the Commonwealth.

He pointed at the bar and looked at them hopefully. “Dinner?”

Danse smiled, “Sure. Let’s get our stuff situated first.” He brought them to a red door with a bright white star painted on it. “This used to be Ella’s home when she first, uh, arrived in the Commonwealth.” He stored his power armor at a nearby station before knocking politely. An older woman with a sweet smile answered the door.

“Why, it’s Paladin Danse!”

He smiled back at her, “Mrs. Finch! It’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were going to be here for the summit.”

“Oh, sure. Jake and I are representing. Gives him a chance to get away from Abraham and me an opportunity to hit up Fallon’s Basement.” She nodded at the others, “Who’re your friends?”

“This is Elder Maxson and our ship’s physician, Knight-Captain Cade. Ella invited us.”

“Right, right. She mentioned something about the Brotherhood bein’ here.” Mrs. Finch finally stepped back and let them pass, “It’s fine by me so long as none of you try to recruit my boy.”

Danse chuckled as they headed in, “I assure you, ma’am, that won’t be a problem.”

She huffed at him and planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t say it like that. Jakey would be a fine soldier and you’d be damned lucky to have him.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Arthur shook his head a little at the confusing exchange and looked around at the tidy office with its desks and galley kitchen. “Where exactly should we put our belongings?”

Mrs. Finch narrowed her eyes at him, clearly trying to size him up, and pointed up the stairs. “You boys are in the loft.”

“Thank you...ma’am.” Something about this one reminded Arthur of Quartermaster Durga back at the Citadel. A woman most people underestimated until it was too late.

The penetrating look intensified, “M’hmm.”

They all felt her eyes on them as they went up the stairs. There were two sets of standard issue army bunk beds and Arthur tossed his pack on top of one of them.

“Ella really lived here?” There were no personal effects, no touch of her at all that he could see.

Danse nodded, “She really did. Looked a lot different back then, but once she took the Castle, that became her main residence...until Shaun was rescued, anyway.” He studied the small space for a moment. “Used to be this was going to be his room, if I recall correctly. She squirreled away every toy we came across in the wilds to bring back here.”

Cade smiled, “That sounds like her. I bet his room is stuffed to the gills, huh?”

He chuckled, “It is that. She’s been busy learning to quilt blankets for him as of late.”

“Quilt?” Arthur couldn’t imagine Ella doing something so...docile.

“Yes, apparently Shaun finds the surface cold, especially at night. Ella said the Institute was climate controlled. It was always exactly seventy three degrees year round. So now his room is full of toys and blankets.”

The Knight-Captain shook his head. “That’s awful. Keeping a child away from the natural rhythms of the earth like that...poor kid’s going to have a tough time adjusting.”

Arthur felt a bolt of righteous anger at the idea of Ella’s precious child suffering more because of those monsters and did his best to shrug it off. “It’s none of our concern. We should find dinner and get to bed. Piper said to arrive at breakfast early.”

They went as a group to Power Noodles. Arthur was going to order, but Danse beat him to it.

“Trust me, sir, this robot is...tricky.”

“Ah.” He nodded sagely and observed the bustling marketplace as their noodles were prepared. Even in the late evening, there were people milling about, children running around. There were quite a few security officers in attendance, as well as a few Minutemen. They wore different coats than he was used to seeing, but they all had those silly hats on. Former Railroad heavies, maybe?

A bowl of steaming noodles appeared before him and he ate absentmindedly. He’d thought perhaps Ella would be staying in the Minutemen barracks as well, but clearly not. He also wondered who the fourth was going to be in the loft. Piper had indicated that every bed in Diamond City would be in use, so it had to be someone.

He just hoped it was an actual human at this point.

A glint of blue on shining black caught his eye and he turned to see Ella herself ordering her own noodles across the way from them. His heart immediately lodged itself firmly in his throat and when she waved cheerfully at them, all he could do was nod back, to his horror.

Cade, however, could always be counted upon.

“Ella! Come sit with us!”

She took her noodles and actually thanked the robot before making her way over. She was wearing a scruffy old coat over a thick, knitted sweater and jeans that seemed more patches than actual denim like some common wastelander, but Arthur was caught up in how her eyes twinkled and the way the festive lights draped around the stand sparkled in her dark hair.

“Hello, gentlemen!” Ella hopped up on the stool next to Cade and leaned over so she could see Danse and Arthur, too. “How’s Diamond City been treating you?”

Cade laughed, “Well, we just got here, but not too bad. These noodles are fantastic.”

She grinned, “Yeah, Takahashi knows what’s up. He’s a Diamond City institution, you know.” Her eyes flitted over Arthur politely before settling on Danse. “Are the accommodations to your liking?”

Danse nodded, “The loft is fine. Warm. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

He should say something. Anything. The longer he went without talking, the more awkward it was going to be. He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Finch seems nice.”

She smiled at him, “She is. Jake’s a sweetheart, too.”

He smiled back and turned back to his noodles. Mission accomplished. They’d said ten words to each other. That was more than enough, right? He ate a few bites, replaying the words endlessly in his head and feeling very pleased with himself until he realized there was an unnatural lull in the conversation and looked up. Cade, Danse and Ella were all staring. He must have missed something. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, would you like a tour of the city? It’s your first time here, isn’t it?”

Terror and glee warred within him. “Ah...that is…” A terrible idea. Just terrible. He didn’t even trust himself alone with her at this point. He looked to Danse for assistance.

“Ah...unfortunately, Ella, the Elder has already decided on making it an early night.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s too bad.” She looked genuinely disappointed and pouted a little down at her bowl.

Cade slurped up the last of his noodles and slapped his chopsticks down. “I’m up for a tour, Sentinel. If you’re offering.”

The pout vanished and she smiled brilliantly at him. “That would be wonderful, Cade! I’d love to show you around. It’d be nice to talk to someone who isn’t absorbed into politics...I’m staying with Piper and all she can talk about is tomorrow.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about any of that.” He slid off his stool and took her hand. “What I want to hear is the story of Diamond City’s crazy doc that got taken down by one little girl and a...what was it?”

She giggled at him, “A Thirst Zapper.”

 _“A Thirst Zapper!_ Now that’s something I’ve got to hear.”

Danse and Arthur watched them go and the paladin glanced over at him, shaking his head. “You’ve got to calm down when you’re around her, Arthur. You’re like a cat that’s been rubbed the wrong way.”

He pushed his bowl away and rested his elbows on the counter. “I can’t help it, Danse. She’s just...there’s something...you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

He frowned at the long-suffering tone. “Don’t sit there and act like you’re immune to this sort of thing. I’ve seen you around Cait. You’re just as tongue-tied with her as I am with Ella.”

Danse’s cheeks flushed a bit and he frowned at him, “That may be true, sir, but my relationship with Cait doesn’t carry geopolitical consequences with it, now does it?”

They glared at each other for a few moments. Arthur looked away first. “Fine. What exactly would you recommend?”

“Maybe...maybe it would be good if you had some remarks rehearsed? Small pleasantries. Observations on safe topics, that sort of thing. Talk about the weather or ask her about Dogmeat or something.” He shrugged, “You don’t have to impress her every time you open your mouth, you know. Just try to have a normal conversation with her.”

“Ask her about her dog? That’s your advice?”

“Sure. Why not? She can talk about Dogmeat for hours on her own, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about saying anything.”

“I’m not exactly sure why, but that almost sounds insulting.”

Danse chuckled, “Well, it’s not meant to be. I’m just trying to help.”

He nervously ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I know you are. Thanks.”

Having nothing better to do, they returned to their bunks. Arthur was in the middle of a particularly dull report when he heard Cade’s laughter and then the door closing downstairs. He frowned at the doctor and his new cap as he came up into the loft.

“What’s the hat for?”

Cade seemed surprised he was still awake and grinned at him. “Souvenir. Ella insisted.” He took it off and admired it. “She said I looked like a real ballplayer in it.”

“M’hmm.” He wasn’t sure why he was so incensed, but he was. “Well, some of us are trying to rest, so keep it down a bit.”

He gave him a paternal stare and tossed a second hat at him. “Here. She said you should have one, too.”

Arthur caught it and stared at the ancient trinket. “She...she wanted me to have this?”

“Yup. She did.” He slipped his into his pack and shook his head at him. “She was disappointed you wouldn’t walk with her. I think she wanted to talk about what happened in person.”

He sat up and gave Cade his full attention. “You do?”

“Yes, I do. She’s not one to let things go unresolved, Elder. I think she picked up on your...ah, nervousness. She feels bad about it.”

“Oh.” His stomach felt twisty suddenly, like when you take a running leap off a building in power armor. “I...she doesn’t have anything to feel badly about. I’m the one who acted like a lout.”

Cade got settled in his bunk and turned toward the wall. “Yeah, and that sentiment would probably work better if you said it to her and not me. Good night, sir.”

“Good night.”

He sat for a bit, thinking. From Ella’s point of view, he was probably coming off as very childish. His silences and the way he’d missed her offer combined with the way he naturally carried himself, it must have all seemed deliberate. She had probably been looking forward to clearing the air with him as much as he’d wanted to with her and he’d gone and ruined it and now there’d be no time with the busy day to come.

Frustrated with himself, Arthur slid out of his bunk and slipped his boots and coat back on.

Danse stirred and raised up on one elbow, “Elder?”

“I’m just going upstairs for some air, Paladin. Go back to sleep.”

“Sir.” He fell back to his pillow and almost immediately began snoring again. Arthur watched him and smiled. He’d never known a man who could flip sleep off and on like a switch the way Danse could.

He made his way up the rickety stairs and ricketier ladder to the rooftop. There was a patio table and chairs, which he ignored in favor of laying on the cold metal and staring up at the stars. It was uncomfortable and not at all relaxing, but he felt he deserved some kind of punishment for his behavior today. The bright stadium lights made picking out constellations difficult, but he’d found Ursa Major easily enough and was working around from it when furtive scraping noises caught his attention.

Arthur sat up a little and frowned at the edge of the roof. Someone was clearly trying to scale the building and doing a terrible job of keeping it stealthy. His right hand wrapped around the combat knife tucked into his coat and he waited for this would-be assassin to appear.

When Ella’s face popped over the edge, it surprised him enough that he almost cut himself on his own damn knife.

“Ella!”

She looked shocked herself as she stared at him. “Arthur!”

“What are you doing here?” It came from them both at the same time and she grinned after.

“Little help?” Her hand reached out for him and he took it, pointedly ignoring how delicate it felt in his. It was like lifting up a small sack of potatoes. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He kept his eyes glued to the far side of Diamond City and felt her settle next to him on the cold roof. “So...what are you doing here?”

“Well, I do own the place.” She nudged him a little before falling back and staring up at the stars, just as he’d done earlier. “I used to come up here when I needed to settle my mind. Figured it might work tonight.”

“Oh.” He’d been here first, but now he felt like he was intruding on her space. “I’ll just go back inside--”

“No, stay.” Her hand caught his coat and kept him from getting up. “I’d be grateful for the company.”

“Okay.” He stared at her boots since it felt like the safest thing. “So...how’s Dogmeat?”

She chuckled, “He’s fine. He stayed home with Shaun.”

Arthur nodded. “Good. That’s...good.” He waited for her to speak more on her dog, but she didn’t. The silence grew around them until he felt suffocated by it. He opened his mouth to ask another inane question but she finally spoke.

“You can see the Big Dipper from here.”

He smiled to himself. “Yes, I saw.”

“There’s too many stars at night now.”

Her voice sounded too tight for such an absurd observation and he glanced back at her. “Oh?”

“Used to be the lights from the city lit up the sky so much you couldn’t see hardly anything but black. But now...no lights, all stars.” Her eyes met his and she smiled a little, “That’s part of why I like Diamond City, actually. The sky isn’t as jarring here. It almost looks like the one I grew up under.”

He couldn’t face the bone deep sorrow in her eyes and looked up at the inky sky instead. “Do you miss it? Your life before the war?”

She sighed, “Everyday...except for the days when I don’t, and then I feel bad for not missing it enough.”

“Sounds like survivor’s guilt.”

“That’s probably right...or close enough, anyway.”

“Is it dark on your island?”

“Yes. It’s very dark, but there’s the ocean. The ocean always helps...hey, you’re from California, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you remember any of it?”

“No, I was very young when I was sent back east.”

“Hmm.”

“I still miss it though.” The words fell out of their own accord and he was surprised at how true they were.

“Is that what the Prydwen is for? To take you back home?”

“Eventually, I suppose.” He jumped a little when her hand covered his and stared down at her.

“I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

She sounded unbelievably sincere and he laughed, “Oh, _of course_ you will.”

“I will!”

He shook his head, “Ella, you don’t have to say that. I know...I know how you must feel about me.”

A little line appeared between her brows and she sat up, “And how do I feel about you?”

“I’m...I’m the oaf who ruined your party. I pushed myself on you and acted like a…”, he couldn’t even think of a word good enough to describe how much he hated himself for that momentary loss of sanity.

“Like a young man who’s never heard the word no?”

He frowned a bit at her description but couldn’t deny it. “Yes.”

“I told you, that’s...forgiven and forgotten. You got my note, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

She sighed heavily, “Oh, Arthur, let it go already. You really think you’re the first man who’s ever tried to pull a fast one on me? It’s fine. You apologized, I forgave you, it’s done.”

The idea that someone else had tried to lay hands on her was infuriating. “No one I know, was it?”

“What?”

“The other men who pulled a fast one.”

She laughed, “No. Not unless you’re a time traveler...I attended quite a few military balls with my husband and there was almost always some wife poacher skulking around. Most people see me as an easy target, you know, on account of I’m so short.” She shrugged carelessly, “They learned quick enough.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine. Really. You just lost your head. It happens.”

He nodded, “Thank you.”

“Besides, I know you didn’t really mean anything by it. Deacon explained the Brotherhood culture to me. I know you all see sex as some sort of purely recreational physical activity...like ping-pong or square dancing.”

“I…”, he kind of hated that she thought he’d only been after a fun romp, but this was his out, wasn’t it? It felt dishonest to let her assume that though and he couldn’t abide letting her believe in a falsehood. “That’s not what it was.”

“Oh.” Silence reigned for a solid minute before she spoke again. “Then, what was it?”

His eyes met hers and he almost got lost in the way aquamarine in them had slipped into a soft cobalt in the dark. He looked away before speaking, unable to face her. “I’d...I’d actually thought about it for a long time. I’m...you’re different, and I feel this compulsion to...you’re...I mean, I-I think about you a lot.” There. It was out there. Sort of, anyway, and he felt like his ten year old self could’ve probably done a better job at actually articulating it, but he’d managed.

_“Oh.”_

He shook his head, “But I know, I know you don’t think of me like that at all and...and that’s fine, I just wanted us to be friends again like we almost were, and--”

“Arthur, that’s very sweet, but--”

“I know, I know, it’s...ridiculous. Impossible. Inappropriate. I’m...I don’t know what happens to me when I’m around you but things just never come out right, words...I can’t...I didn’t trust myself to even be alone with you just walking and that’s why I didn’t go and I’m sorry--”

He fumbled to a halt when her lips pressed against his cheek in a soft kiss. He blinked at her in shock and she smiled softly at him.

“You really are a sweet kid, Arthur, you know that?” She patted his cheek gently, her thumb tracing along his scar a bit. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

His heart was in love with the tenderness in her voice even as his brain failed to make any sense of what had just happened. “Okay.”

She scooted away from him and shimmied back down the side of her former home. Arthur watched her trot over towards Piper’s and felt more confused than he ever had since he’d assumed the title of Elder. He went back to his bunk in a daze and replayed every moment of their impromptu meeting in his head until sleep finally overtook him.

It seemed mere seconds since he’d closed his eyes that Danse was shaking him awake to start the day. Cade had already gone to breakfast, the promise of getting something that wasn’t standard regulation rations a powerful incentive. Their fourth bunkmate had turned out to be Preston Garvey himself, but the man had been asleep by the time Arthur had returned from the roof and gone by the time they all woke up.

Had to admire a soldier who only required four hours of sleep.

Danse showed him the way to the back field, where breakfast was being served. He kept shooting him concerned looks and finally stopped right by a bright neon sign.

“Arthur, did something happen?”

“What? No.”

“You just seem a little distracted this morning.”

Part of him wanted to tell his friend what had transpired the night before, but another part, a far more powerful and covetous part, felt that this small moment was his and his alone. He didn’t want to share it with anyone else. He was also struggling under the weight of Ella calling him a ‘sweet kid’. She’d referred to Danse the same way when they’d first met and he was working hard to be alright with that since she clearly saw the paladin as a friend and ally. He’d told her that was all he truly wanted and it hadn’t felt like a lie there in the dark, but in the cold light of morning it certainly did.

“I’m fine. Just anxious to start the meeting.”

He narrowed his eyes and studied his face, “Alright...if it was something else, you’d tell me, right?”

“Of course.” He could smell breakfast and followed the path around the buildings, unwilling to look back at his friend. Arthur was almost positive Danse knew he was lying. There’d probably be consequences for that later, but for now all he could focus on was seeing Ella again.

There were several burn barrels set up in a loose perimeter around some picnic tables by a fenced in field of brahmin. Grills were just beyond them and every one was manned by a Minuteman. Citizens of Diamond City mingled with the guests from all across the Commonwealth while Ella’s friends darted around with giant trays of food.

To the side was a small table set up with boiled coffee and paper cups, and Danse made a beeline for it, pouring one for himself and the Elder. Cade was already tucking into what had to be at least his second helping of steak and eggs and he waved them over to his table.

Arthur walked across the little courtyard, conscious of the wary looks and whispers that followed, and sat across from the doctor. “Morning, Cade.”

“Morning, Elder!” He waved his fork around, “Isn’t this nice? We should do something like this in Bosville some morning.”

He nodded and accepted the cup of coffee from Danse, scooting over a bit to make room. “Yes, that would be nice.”

“Morale boosting!” Cade shook his head, “A man gets weary eating gruel every morning.”

Danse chuckled, “That’s true. I feel ungrateful every time I think it, but it’s definitely true.”

Arthur frowned a bit. He thought their rations were quite adequate. He’d grown up on the very gruel the Prydwen’s mess served. “It’s not that bad.”

Cade gave him an almost pitying look that morphed into a delighted grin suddenly. “Hey! There she is! My favorite girl in Diamond City!”

Arthur’s head whipped around, expecting to see Ella, but it was a small child carrying a ridiculously large tray of food.

She smiled shyly at them, “Hi again, Doctor Cade. General Ella said to bring this over.”

Cade took the tray from her and doled out their food. “Thanks, sweetheart. Arthur, Danse, this is little Miss Nina Rodriguez. Her father runs Commonwealth Weaponry.”

The girl fidgeted under their gaze and dropped her eyes. “Dad says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“That’s good advice.” There was something sweet and wholesome about the girl that made Arthur want to scoop her up and protect her somehow.

Danse apparently felt the same way, “Be careful with so many visitors in the city today, Miss Rodriguez.”

She stared at her feet and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Cade patted her on the head, “Go on back to Ella, honey.”

The girl nodded once more and slipped back through the crowd. Arthur’s eyes followed her and finally found Ella at a table covered in electric griddles. She spoke to Nina for a moment and then her eyes found his and she smiled and waved with her spatula at the men. They waved back and started on their breakfasts.

“Sweet girl.”

“Yeah, she’s a cutie pie. Her father’s the best weaponsmith in the Commonwealth. You ever hear Teagan bitching about soldiers coming to Diamond City for repairs and not him? That’s who he’s bitching about.”

Arthur paused before taking a bite of his hotcake. “Really?” He’d had to endure more than one formal complaint from Teagan about their men seeking out ‘unauthorized weapons dealers’ in the past few months.

Danse shook his head, “He’d do better working on his own craftsmanship than complaining about Arturo’s.”

“You know him, too?”

“Yes, Arturo has given me a few pointers from time to time. Ella’s own quartermaster frequently makes deals with him for the focusing crystals on their muskets. He’s talented.”

Of course Ella was working with him. You want the best, you seek out the best. Teagan held far too close to the lines of the Codex that insisted you never trusted outsiders. They’d have never taken back the Capital Wasteland without trusting an outsider.

The hotcakes were excellent. Light and fluffy, dotted with clotted brahmin cream and mutfruit syrup. Arthur hadn’t had a meal so decadent in his entire life.

Danse held up his last bite and stared at it thoughtfully, “You think Ella’s cooking is why she’s able to recruit so many Minutemen?”

Cade laughed, “Maybe, Paladin. It’s certainly got me rethinking my loyalties.”

Arthur watched her, finally freed from her griddle duties, moving freely from table to table, laughing and talking with everyone as if she’d known them her whole life and refilling coffee mugs like a common waitress. He couldn’t even imagine his men’s reaction if he tried to do the same thing. They’d probably think he’d sustained a head injury.

She finally reached their table and sat next to Cade, across from Arthur. “Good morning! How was everything?”

“Delicious, Ella! Marry me.”

She laughed at Cade’s declaration and turned to the others, “Well, he’s smitten. What about you two?”

Danse smiled, “It was very nice. Thank you.” He pushed Arthur’s knee with his own and the Elder nodded.

“Yes, very nice.”

Ella grinned back, “Oh, good...I’m kind of hoping the breakfast puts everyone in a pleasant mood for this afternoon. Hammering out the trade agreements and communal taxes is going to be contentious.” She sighed heavily, “There was already a scuffle between the Abernathys and the Diamond City delegation. We had to shuffle some people around last night.”

Cade’s face was a perfect picture of fatherly disapproval, “A scuffle? Over what?”

She shrugged, “The Abernathy’s are way far out, but they’re the number one supplier of produce to the city. They’re farmers and deal mostly with bartering, not actual caps, so they want Diamond City to cover the provisioner fees for moving their goods into town. Diamond City...objected, apparently. Words were had, tempers flared, then someone threw a punch. Blake says Malcolm swung first, Malcolm says Blake did. We put them both in lockup until this morning and had to move the rest of the Abernathys down from the upper stands. It was a big mess.”

Well that explained why she needed to clear her head last night. “Who do you think actually started the fight?”

She frowned thoughtfully, “I don’t know. Blake is certainly no stranger to violence, but Malcolm is...well, he’s known for a different kind of violence and used to people being subservient. So, I have no idea and there were no impartial witnesses. Which is why they both got locked up.”

Danse and Cade both scoffed at the unbecoming behavior and launched into a discussion of proper diplomatic etiquette while Ella nodded along. Arthur did his best to not notice the sweetly domestic picture she made after a morning of cooking. It was bad enough that this was the second time seeing how right she looked in a dress, even with her silly General’s hat perched on her head.

She also had a smudge of flour on her cheek that was practically yelling at him to wipe it away and there was small dots of the mutfruit syrup on her apron. It called up fantasies of cozy breakfasts in bed and all the delicious things that could follow.

Instead of focusing on all that, he stared into his coffee and feigned disinterest in the entire affair.

A small foot tapped his under the table suddenly and his head jerked up to stare at Ella.

She was watching him with a sympathetic smile on her face. Her eyes darted over to Danse and Cade for a moment before coming back to his and rolling comically. Arthur chuckled quietly and nudged her foot with his own. She beamed at him for a moment, bright and friendly as a daisy, and then stood. Cade and Danse’s conversation came stumbling to a halt.

“Well, gentlemen. I’m sorry, but I have to leave you. Gotta get ready and Preston wants to go over everything a few times before we begin. I’ll see you back here this afternoon, okay?”

Danse nodded, “Of course. We’ll see you then.”

“Looking forward to the show.”

Arthur mentally fumbled around a bit for something clever and reassuring to say before Danse’s advice from the day before came back to him. He didn’t have to try to impress her with every interaction. He could just be himself. “Good luck.”

She chuckled, “Thanks. I’m definitely going to need it.”

They watched her go and Danse turned to Cade. “Really, Cade? Is it appropriate to propose marriage to the Sentinel after one breakfast?”

Cade grinned at him, “You’re forgetting our delightful romantic stroll from last night.”

Danse sighed irritably and collected their dishes.

Arthur chuckled at Cade, “Quite the ladies man, aren’t you, Knight-Captain?”

“I can be when properly inspired.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, someone had to draw her attention. Might as well be me.”

He frowned at him, “What are you talking about?”

The look Cade gave him was equal parts compassionate and wry. “You’re a little moonstruck around the Sentinel, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir. She, or one of her many friends, is bound to notice at some point.”

“I’m not--”

“You watch her like a starving dog drools over a bone, Arthur.”

Heat flooded his face but he couldn’t say it it was more from rage or embarrassment. “I do no such thing!”

Cade, if he felt any trepidation at openly challenging his Elder, gave no indication of it. “Sure you do, son.”

He glowered at the man until Danse returned, then rose. “We should do some recon before the meeting gets started. Get a feel for the people.”

Danse nodded, “Sounds good. Cade, you’re good with civilians. You take the Marketplace. The Elder and I will check the perimeter and see what the citizens are gossiping about in the upper stands.”

“Meet back at the noodle stand at eleven?”

Arthur had to laugh. Breakfast was barely over and Cade was already looking forward to lunch. “Sure. It’s a good central location.”

He and Danse casually made their way around the city. Or tried to, anyway. Danse’s bright orange jumpsuit and his battlecoat kind of put a damper on any surveillance they could have accomplished. Still, things could be overheard easily in the metal city and most people seemed more excited to see Mayor Hancock back in town than the actual council meeting.

He’d surprisingly defected from Diamond City over a decade ago when his brother initially took office, driven away from his home by his anger at McDonough’s campaign to rid the city of ghouls. That interested Arthur. Hancock hadn’t even _been_ a ghoul yet, and still he’d fought for their right to live in a city they’d always inhabited. A matter of principle or did he have an unnatural affinity for ghouls even back then?

Their gift to the mayor had been well-received, he thought, with a note thanking them arriving a couple of weeks after he’d sent it out. The note had also thanked them, profusely, for the lack of Brotherhood presence in Goodneighbor and Arthur was convinced there had been insults cleverly hidden in the overly loquacious letter. He’d always been proud of his plainspoken leadership style, and it had irked him to no end trying to decipher Hancock’s overblown prose.

Unfortunately, their overture had not been returned beyond that one communication. Arthur had no idea if the mayor could be swayed away from his open hostility towards all things Brotherhood or if it was truly a lost cause. Surely Ella had to have explained to him that they didn’t wish to go to war against Commonwealth ghouls, if that was his concern. There were more than enough super mutants and ferals running through the streets of Boston that a few pockets of ghouls here and there held little interest for them.

They regrouped over noodle bowls at eleven sharp, taking in the way the city seemed to be holding its breath. The meeting was being held in the large open space breakfast had been served in, as it was the only space large enough for all the delegates, and already citizens were climbing into the west stands to get a good vantage point.

Cade had been slightly more effective in his scouting and explained that the Diamond City delegation seemed divided among itself, still adhering to the upper and lower stands culture of the town. Yefim Bobrov and Doctor Sun represented the people of the infield while Malcolm Latimer and Ann Codman represented the upper-crusts. According to Cade, the lower stands were firmly with whatever Ella and the Minutemen wanted to do, but the upper stands were almost outright hostile towards her for unknown reasons.

Arthur had long decided that, as the eventual governor of the region, he would defect to Ella’s judgement on most, if not all, issues during the summit. She not only had the tactical advantage with her Minutemen, but the insider knowledge the Brotherhood lacked as well. As much as he’d tried to have their scribes interview citizens across the Commonwealth, they were a taciturn sort of people to anyone they deemed an outsider. They had a map of all settlements and a small list of probable leaders and that was it. Any other information they had was all extremely basic and unhelpful in a potential political minefield.

They hurriedly exchanged information, ate their noodles and then moved along the path, this time in formal Brotherhood formation. Arthur taking the lead, Danse moving behind him and Cade taking up the rear.

The picnic tables had been rearranged from casual chaos to a double arch surrounding a raised platform, which held another dining table set up with microphones and chairs. Where the leaders of this attempt at true governance would sit, no doubt.

There were tiny flags adorning each picnic table. Arthur studied them as they wandered past. One had what looked like an old radio tower surrounded by stars. Another had a gear with what looked like a leaf growing out of it. There was a cheerful yellow flag with a white sunburst and another with a mutfruit tree covered in stars instead of fruit. He frowned at them and glanced back at Danse questioningly.

“The Minutemen settlements, I believe, sir.” He pointed at the closest tables, “That’s the symbol for Graygarden, the sun is probably Sunshine Tidings...Greentop is known for their mutfruit.”

“Ah.” He squinted down the line of tables and finally spotted it. The Brotherhood of Steel’s insignia on a table near the middle of the back arch. “There’s our table.”

They settled in and he quietly listened to Danse’s narration of the various representatives while maintaining eye contact with each one who dared look their way. Sarah Lyons herself had taught him that trick. It asserted dominance in an artful sort of way.

It seemed to him that the front row of delegates represented smaller communities, as most of their tables only had one or maybe two representatives present. That was an interesting move on Ella’s part. A way to make sure their voices were heard, perhaps.

On their own row, Diamond City sat to their right, the two halves of their group pointedly ignoring each other. Goodneighbor was directly to the left, but their table remained empty as the minutes ticked past.

Odd. He knew Diamond City and Goodneighbor had a long-standing and newly healed rivalry. Perhaps they’d been placed in the middle to give the ambassadors a common enemy? Or maybe this was just a good way to make sure strength separated the bickering factions.

A tall blonde came around the corner, followed closely by Ella, accompanied by Preston Garvey. Another woman followed. Older, also blond, with a dangerous, mercenary quality about her, despite the business suit she wore. Preston chivalrously escorted the women up onstage before retreating to stand quietly at the stairs.

Cade whistled low when the three ladies took their seats. “I had no idea this was all orchestrated by women. Progressive.”

Danse leaned in a bit, “That’s Geneva in the middle. She’s the interim mayor for Diamond City. The other one’s Kessler, out of Bunker Hill. They remain an independent settlement.” He nodded towards a table on the front row where a heavy-set, disgruntled looking older man sat with a young woman in a mechanic’s jumpsuit who fairly vibrated with excitement.

Everyone save the Goodneighbor representatives were all seated by the time Geneva banged her gavel. It echoed through the old stadium’s sound system and it seemed to Arthur that the entire city went silent.

“Good afternoon, representatives. Welcome to the first meeting of the Commonwealth Congress.” She paused and smiled graciously at the polite applause. “I’d like to thank General Bradley and the Minutemen for the extra security they’ve provided, as well as the armed escorts for our representatives.” Another round of applause. “And of course, our own Diamond City security officers for always providing top notch protection for all of our citizens and guests alike.” More applause and a few whistles from the grandstands caused a red-headed man standing with Garvey to step forward and give a small wave. “Yes, thank you, Chief Sullivan.” Geneva smiled again at the blushing man and turned to the crowd. “Now then, my fellow chair, General Bradley, will give us all a run down on our itinerary for today.”

Ella looked momentarily startled but recovered quickly and nodded at the mayor. “Yes, thank you, Mayor Geneva. Um…”, her eyes swept over the tables. “Well...I see some of us are taking the scenic route to Diamond City, but I’m sure Mayor Hancock will catch up.” There was a smattering of laughter from the delegates and she grinned. “We all know he likes to make an entrance...anyway! Welcome, everyone! Geneva, Kessler and I are truly humbled to be chosen to chair this first crucial meeting. It’s...well, it’s an honor. I hope we can all set aside whatever differences we may have and work together to make our Commonwealth a stronger, better place for all.” She smiled nervously at the applause. “Alright, so our primary goal for today is to not get bogged down in petty squabbles. We’re merely creating the framework on which to build a new nation. As most of you know by now, I grew up in pre-war America and have seen first hand what happens when the foundations of a society fall apart. I feel that if we can work together, with the goal of creating a lasting, mutually beneficial peace, we can build a foundation sturdy enough to weather whatever the wasteland may throw at us. With that being said, I’d like to offer up the words of one of America’s forefathers to open this congress…. ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that _all men are created equal,_ that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.’ Thomas Jefferson used those words to open the Declaration of Independence back in 1776. That’s over five hundred years ago. I think it’s about time we try actually living up to the sentiment.”

Thunderous applause broke out among the delegates and those watching from the stands. Arthur felt ridiculously proud of Ella in that moment.

“Well, that’s real sweet, Sunshine. But I’ve personally always liked ‘Give me liberty or give me death’ better...idea’s a little easier to get behind.” The Mayor of Goodneighbor’s soft voice somehow cut through the clamor and they turned as one to stare at the motley crew from the independent town.

There was the Mayor himself, of course, looking resplendent as ever in his red frock coat, hat jauntily perched atop his head. An assaultron, decidedly more disturbing than the cheerful robots from Graygarden, stood next to him, processors whirring as she shifted restlessly. There was an exasperated looking older woman in a pinstripe suit behind them and a sultry, tall blond in a ridiculously ornate, feathered dress stood smirking next to her.

Ella laughed, “Glad to see you could make it, Hancock. So good of you to fit us into your _dreadfully busy_ schedule.”

Arthur recognized that tone and stifled a chuckle. It was the same one she’d taken with him the first time they’d met. When she’d accused him of ‘sassing’ her.

Hancock grinned and bowed ever-so-slightly. “Always happy to rise and shine for my Sunshine. Little early for politics though, ain’t it?”

“It’s almost twelve-thirty in the afternoon, John.”

He squinted at the sun above them. “So that’s why that damn thing’s so bright.”

Girlish screaming could be heard from the peanut gallery. “We love you, Hancock!”

His gaze turned towards the west stands and a hand covered his heart. “And I love you, kittens.”

“You really are _appallingly_ late, darling. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.” The Miss Nanny bot out of Graygarden, Supervisor White, huffed at him.

“We’re all ready to start the show!”

She turned to the Mister Handy on her right, “Greene, darling, not now.”

Hancock folded his hands in front of his heart, “Apologies, sweetheart.”

Ella tapped her pen on the table, “Yes, yes, we’re all very glad you’re here. Now please sit down.”

He sauntered over to their table, entourage in tow, and waited for the three ‘ladies’ with him to sit first before he straddled a bench, all attention on the stage after a cursory glance at the Brotherhood table. “Take it away, love.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but continued anyway. “So let’s get the hard stuff out of the way first, while we’re all fresh. Chairwoman Kessler has worked out a taxation and tariff system that we really feel has a shot at evening out the inflation and generating steady economic growth throughout the region. Chairwoman Kessler?”

The de facto leader of Bunker Hill began explaining her new Commonwealth treasury system and Arthur did his best to pay attention while Cade took notes. They really should have brought Quinlan along for this sort of thing, but the scribe had been busy deciphering old data from Boston University and couldn’t be moved from his station.

Knowing Cade and Danse would absorb everything pertinent to the Brotherhood, and having a less than helpful grasp on the local economy himself, he let his focus wander a bit. Ella looked wonderful in her General’s uniform, even if the blue coat hung a little long on her. He hadn’t seen Deacon or Xavier anywhere, but Garvey’s brass buttons looked especially shiny today and his stance hadn’t wavered in the slightest since he’d taken up his post.

If the different delegations were true representations of the settlements, the Commonwealth certainly had a wide variety of citizenry. The Spectacle Island group was particularly interesting. Curie seemed to be leading the table, with two other rather sickly-looking scientists sitting across from her and Ella’s personal Mister Handy, Codsworth, taking the other spot.

Looking around, it was rather shocking, really, how many robots were considered full fledged representatives. Goodneighbor had their assaultron, Greygarden had their delegation split evenly between bots and humans...he couldn’t help but wonder just how many synths were seated around him, hiding in plain sight. It made his skin crawl just a bit, or maybe that was just the ghouls.

Nearly every settlement had at least one ghoul representing, save Diamond City and Spectacle Island. One settlement, the Slog, had a majority ghoul party with only one human at the table.

He wasn’t sure what was more disturbing, that they were there at all, or that everyone seemed perfectly happy to work with them. As if they all couldn’t go feral at any moment.

An hour into negotiations and Cade winced a little, rubbing his hand. “Should’ve brought a scribe with us.”

Danse slid the notebook over to his side of the table, “I can take notes for a bit.”

“Thanks.”

Arthur was starting to get a little irritated at all the bickering between the city-based settlements and the rural ones. Hadn’t Ella specifically said they weren’t going to let themselves get bogged down by petty squabbling? He kept waiting for her or one of the other chairs to call for order, but they seemed content to let the bickering run its full course.

All in all, the entire thing seemed to prove what the Brotherhood had long known. That democracy was nice in theory and pointless in practice.

The upper stands half of the Diamond City delegation in particular seemed determined to bring all bargaining that didn’t directly give them the upper hand to a screeching halt. It was on the umpteenth time that they’d interrupted another group that Arthur had finally had enough of the chaos and finally spoke up.

“If I may, Ambassador Malcolm, it might behoove you to try actually listening to your fellow representatives instead of attempting to force capitulation at every turn. This is, after all, supposed to be a democratic affair, is it not?”

All arguing came to an abrupt halt. Geneva sat up a little straighter in her chair and stared at the Brotherhood table like she’d forgotten they were even there. Ella just shook her head slightly at him while Kessler barely raised an eyebrow, clearly as bored and done as he felt but seemingly far more patient with her fellow wastelanders.

Malcolm sneered at them, “It was my understanding that the Brotherhood were here as _guests_ only. You hold no authority here, Elder Maxson.” He all but spat the title at him and Arthur felt Danse shift slightly, like he was having to hold himself to his seat.

“The Brotherhood are indeed our guests today...and we should welcome their input as they have created a fully realized, functional society that stretches across the continent and have successfully maintained it since just after the bombs fell. Elder Maxson in particular in well educated in statecraft. I think having an outside opinion is always beneficial in such heated debates.” Ella was all smiles, clearly in full damage control mode, voice respectful and soft but firm.

Geneva nodded, “Yes, the general is correct. This is a public forum and we appreciate the participation of all our invited attendees, not just the settlement representatives.”

The sneer grew, “I’m surprised at you, Geneva. Allowing yourself to be swayed by a few pretty words from a false ally is beneath a Diamond City elite.”

Angry murmuring grew around them until Ella held up her hand for silence. “Excuse me? The Minutemen have, historically, never been anything but true to Diamond City, even when that loyalty was not appreciated or returned.”

He chuckled and smirked at Ann Codman, who nodded in return. “Then perhaps you would care to explain how someone who’s being given ultimate authority over our region by outsiders is still able to stay true to our citizens, Miss Bradley?”

Ella frowned at him and looked around at the crowd, seemingly searching for an explanation. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Ann Codman now stood, “Don’t play dumb, General, although you do a remarkably fine job of it. We know of your impending governorship. The Brotherhood are _giving you_ the region to rule over with supreme authority. Doesn’t that make these proceedings moot? Or is this just some sort of game you’re playing to amuse yourself?”

Her eyes went wide and she stared directly at Arthur. “If that’s true, it's the first I’m hearing of it. Elder Maxson?”

His name came out of her mouth with the slightest hint of a plea in it. He knew she wanted him to brush the rumor off, scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but he was too incensed at the idea of the leak on his ship to lie effectively. “That is Brotherhood business and has nothing to do with this congress.” He turned and gave his best elder stare to Malcolm and Ann. “I do hope I am mistaken in assuming that you have somehow managed to plant spies within my ranks, Ambassadors, or Diamond City will find itself with far larger problems than a few paltry taxes.”

Ann’s nose went up in the air as she looked down at him, clearly unphased, “We have the right to know what’s going on in our Commonwealth, Elder. It is _you_ who have no rights here.”

Malcolm, looking entirely too pleased with himself, raised his hand. “I call for a vote of no confidence in General Bradley, both as the leader of the Minutemen and as a chair of this committee.”

“I second it!”

“Bitch.” Hancock muttered it under his breath and stood. “This is ridiculous. You can’t honestly believe Ella is anything but Boston through and through. The shit she’s done, and the _sacrifices_ she’s made for the Commonwealth are almost incomprehensible.” He looked around for support and found it in a few faces. “Hell, most of you ungrateful bastards wouldn’t even _have_ settlements to represent if it weren’t for her. It don’t matter if the Brotherhood want to make her a fucking princess, she’s still our General, and our _friend,_ first.”

Geneva sighed heavily, “Thank you for your words, Mayor Hancock. Unfortunately the motion has already been seconded.” She glanced over at Ella’s shocked face and cleared her throat a little. “We will have a one hour recess and then reconvene. Each settlement will receive one vote, so delegates, please take this time to discuss--”

Ella abruptly stood and looked like she wanted to say something, but instead just took off her hat and carefully sat it in front of her on the table and walked away, down the stairs, ignoring Garvey’s hand and leaving the area entirely. Her eyes looked a little too glossy but other than that, she managed to exit with impenetrable dignity and Arthur’s heart broke watching her go.

Diamond City’s mayor sighed again, “To discuss how you will vote.” She banged her gavel and switched off her mic before immediately leaning over to speak with Kessler. Heated discussions broke out at each table and Arthur finally turned to his men.

“Danse, you didn’t--”

“Of course not, sir!”

“I wasn’t even aware this was happening. Where was I when this governorship was being hammered out?”

Arthur shook his head, “It's in its infancy. Barely even an idea yet. I’ve discussed it with no one save Danse and Quinlan.”

Cade frowned, “I can’t see Quinlan being in cahoots with _any_ wastelander, no matter how rich and pretentious they are.”

“So we do have a spy then?”

He thought hard, “Or someone has compromised our internal mail system.”

Danse frowned, “Our terminals are in our private quarters, but Quinlan’s…”

“Anyone can use it.” Arthur rubbed his temples. “And they often do. He allows almost anyone access to the records...it wouldn’t be difficult to pretend to be reading about one thing and pull up his private correspondence instead.”

“What a mess.”

“Chairwoman!” A ghoul from the Slog stood and waved his hand to get Geneva’s attention.

She switched the mic back on, “Yes, Ambassador Jones?”

“Should they really be here right now?” He pointed to the Brotherhood members. “El was good enough to remove herself. Shouldn’t they?”

She glanced to Kessler, who gave her a single nod. “You are correct. Elder Maxson, I’m afraid I must insist that you and your friends leave until our recess is over, please.”

He nodded, “Of course. I apologize for any distress our presence has caused the council.” They rose as one and left the quarreling throng. Arthur headed directly for their temporary quarters, despite Cade’s clear interest in the noodle stand. He could feel the eyes of Diamond City upon them and was sure the longer they remained visible, the lower the chances of Ella making it through the day with her rank intact. He finally spotted Deacon in a Diamond City security uniform standing just outside the surgical center and frowned at him in confusion as they passed. The man gave him an infuriating kind of smirk before making a kissy face at him and he kept walking, refusing to acknowledge the juvenile goading.

The steel door closed behind them and he immediately felt better. “That was a disaster.”

“She’ll resign.” Danse and Arthur both turned to Cade and he seemed irritated at their blank stares. “From the Brotherhood. This is her home. If she has to choose--”

“But we aren’t the ones asking her to choose.”

“Be that as it may, Paladin Danse, she’ll do it. The Commonwealth...her Minutemen...its too important to her.”

Arthur had no doubt in his mind that Cade was correct, but he hated to hear it said out loud. “It’s...upsetting, but we’ll support her no matter what decision she makes.”

“Elder, do you think...maybe it's time we finally give up here? Head west? The salvage operation is nearly complete and there’s clearly nothing for the Brotherhood in Boston.”

The idea of going anywhere Ella wasn’t made his heart hurt, but he was the Elder. First, foremost, always. He had to do what was best for everyone, not just what his own selfish wants dictated. Still, admitting defeat was hard. “We’ll wait and see what the council does and then decide our next move.” Danse looked like he wanted to argue and he held up his hand. “I’m going upstairs to think. Please let me know when the hour is up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course, Elder.”

He made his way up, glowering to himself how unappreciative and shortsighted the people of the Commonwealth apparently were. As soon as his head popped through the little trapdoor on the roof, he froze.

Ella was hiding in the silly travel trailer that had been turned into a makeshift alcove for the roof access. Curled up against a wall and sniffling into a large handkerchief. Her watery eyes met his and then watched warily as he silently came up the rest of the way, closing the door and sitting on it for good measure.

“Ella, what are you doing?”

She laughed but there was no joy in the sound. “I told you last night, I own the joint.”

“Ella.”

“Fine. I’m...hiding. Alright? I...I didn’t want to cry in front of those…”

“Assholes.”

Her eyes filled with tears again and she nodded silently.

He dug around in a pocket and produced a new, less crumpled handkerchief. “Here.”

She accepted his offering and looked at the Brotherhood insignia on it. “I didn’t want you to see, either.”

“Ah...so I’m counted among the assholes then.” He slid over a bit and put his back against the nearest wall, staring out at the city.

A small huff of laughter escaped her. “No, not today, anyway.” She gave him a small smile and he smiled back. “You really want me to be governor?”

“I really do.”

 _“Why?_ How could you possibly think that was a good idea?”

“It _is_ a good idea. You’re already the highest ranking officer in the region. You already run everything, Ella, whether they want to admit it or not.” His brow furrowed at her disbelieving stare. “And, if you want the unvarnished truth, part of our mission was to formally annex the Commonwealth and make it a Brotherhood territory. The Western Elders have been pushing the expansion of our domain since I was made High Elder and it just seemed like the best way to give everyone what they wanted was to give you the title. What you choose to do with it is entirely at your discretion. If you’re only ever governor on paper, it will still satisfy them and --”

“Okay, that’s all well and good, but do _you_ want me to be governor?”

“It was my idea.”

“But is it what you actually want, or are you just doing it to get the Western Elders off your back?”

He frowned, “I am High Elder. No one is on my back.”

“Then why not just leave the Commonwealth and tell them the mission failed?”

Why did she always have to ask such difficult questions? “This is my first mission out of the Capital Wasteland. It's important to me that it succeed.”

She tilted her head a bit, “So if I were to refuse outright, you’d...what, take us by force?”

“No. No, of course not. I’d never...I’d never try to take you by force.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit at the obvious double meaning before she ducked her head. “What a mess.”

He chuckled, “That’s exactly what Cade said.”

“If I were governor --”

“Nothing would change unless you wanted it to. As governor, you’d answer directly to me, so...your reports could be nothing but page after page of weather updates and that would be fine.”

“Hmm.” She sighed, “Well, it's not like any of it matters anyway. I’m about to be fired.”

“You really think they’ll turn against you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She shrugged, “It would give me more time to be with Shaun, I guess. Maybe it’s a good thing.” She’d said it with a steady voice, but more tears had fallen into her lap all the same.

“Ella, it’s going to be alright. You have plenty of friends out there. They’ll fight for you.”

Her head shook slowly, “Maybe, but...most of them didn’t even know I worked with the Brotherhood at all. My involvement will be seen as a major betrayal by everyone who got hit up for supplies last spring...and the ghouls…” More tears fell, “Did you see how betrayed Hancock looked?” It came out as a pained whisper and he wondered, not for the first time, just how close her relationship was to Goodneighbor’s mayor.

“He stood up for you though, didn’t he?”

“I guess. Maybe his hatred of the upper stands runs deeper than his hatred of the Brotherhood.”

“I...we tried to make peace with him. Before everything, I mean.”

“I know. You sent him a knife.”

“He told you?”

She reached into her coat pocket and brought out one of Teagan’s folding knives, “He gave it to me, actually.”

“Oh.”

“Said every girl should have a cute little pocket knife.”

He was instantly borderline infuriated but had to laugh. “That’s...thoughtful of him.”

“He usually is.” She pocketed it and gave him a half smile that lasted all of a second before her face crumpled again and she resumed staring at her lap. “Sorry...I’m not very good company right now.”

He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and make the heartbreak she was feeling go away, but...that’s not who they were. “Should I leave?”

“No, it’s...you’re keeping me from doing something embarrassing, so it’s fine.”

His eyebrow raised, “Something embarrassing?”

“Yeah, like, marching back there and punching certain people in the face.” She shook her head and tried to smile. “Elder’s here, so I gotta behave.”

He snorted and laughed outright. “Since when have you _ever_ followed that rule?”

“Since always!”

“You’re saying your behavior is actually worse when we aren’t together?”

“Yes.”

“Good God, woman.”

She laughed at his exasperated expression. “Doesn’t Danse give you reports or whatever whenever we’re in the field?”

“Of course. They’ve never said anything about you being _worse_ than I’m used to.”

“Ah, then he never told you about the…”, she petered off and stared at him as if suddenly remembering who he was. “Nevermind.”

“Ella.”

“Nope.”

“Sentinel Bradley.”

She gave him a downright insolent look, “Ask Danse.”

“I’m asking you, soldier.”

“If Danse didn’t think it was worth mentioning, then I’m sure it wasn’t.”

He glowered at her cheeky grin for a moment. “You know, you should save all this obstinance and fire for those fools on the council.”

“What?”

“Fight, General. Stand and fight for what’s yours.”

“That’s...not really how it works here.”

“Why not? You took back the Commonwealth one battle at a time, didn’t you? Aren’t you the architect of all this? It’s yours. Take it back by force if they’re too stupid to let you have it.”

“That’s not how democracy works.”

He scoffed, “Democracy only ever works in theory. In practice, when leaders or countries can’t get where they want with pretty words, they almost always take up the sword. Or perish and fall off the face of the earth altogether.”

Ella sighed, “That’s certainly how they did it in the old days, but we’re trying to build something better.”

“Sounds a little utopic from where I’m sitting.”

“Well, we can’t all live in paramilitary oligarchies, Arthur.”

“Is that what you see the Brotherhood as?”

“I’ve read the Codex...and I used to be a lawyer, remember? I don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but my specialty was international law. Hate to break it to you, but that’s _exactly_ what you are.”

Arthur’s mouth set in a hard line. True, the Brotherhood wasn’t interested in being anything as volatile as a true republic like Ella was trying to achieve, but an oligarchy called up images of serfs and nobles and that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Each Brotherhood chapter chose its own Elder, and the council of Elders chose the High Elder. The people had a voice, didn’t they? Right down to the greenest squire.

“I think your American-centric pre-war education has unduly influenced your opinions.”

“I think your Brotherhood-centric post-war education has influenced yours.”

They glared at each other for a moment before a voice from outside broke the tension.

“General? I know you’re up there, ma’am.”

Ella’s gaze went to the doorway to the porch. “Preston. He always finds me.” She scrubbed her face a little with the back of her hand and stood. “How do I look?”

He stared up at her, taking in her over-bright eyes and the way her eyelashes looked exceptionally dark when wet and smiled. She looked absolutely beautiful. “Fine.”

“Thanks.” She smiled back and bounced out to the edge of the roof. “Hey, Preston! Has it already been an hour?”

“No, but Geneva says they’re ready to call for a vote anyway. They’re filling out ballots now.”

“Oh, okay.” She jumped down suddenly and Arthur’s heart lurched until he heard Preston’s immediate admonishment.

“General! I really wish you would stop doing things like that.”

“What? It’s fine. You caught me.”

“And I’ll always catch you, but that’s not the point.”

He chuckled at the resigned tone from the lieutenant and shifted off the hatch enough to open it. At least he wasn’t the only person she drove insane with her impulsive nature.

Danse and Cade were engaged in quiet conversation as he walked up. “They’re calling for the vote now.”

Danse looked confused and checked his watch. “It’s only been thirty minutes.”

He shrugged, “Nevertheless, I heard the call outside. We should go.”

Cade stood reluctantly, “Is that wise, Elder?”

Arthur nodded, “We should be there. She’s our Sentinel.”

“Alright. Well...your call, sir.”

By the time they’d returned, everyone else was already seated back at their tables. Ella stood on the elevated platform, but did not take her seat, choosing instead to stand next to the table with her hand tucked into Garvey’s for support.

Geneva called for order, “Now then, does everyone have their ballots ready? Kessler will do the official count.”

“No, Miss Geneva. We are...unable to come to a consensus.” The calmer Bobrov brother, Yefim, looked ready to murder someone.

“It’s only because you’re so stubborn!”

“Oh, of course, choosing to not want to betray the general is just stubbornness, Ann. It couldn’t _possibly_ be because we actually believe in her or anything. Surely not.” Doctor Sun glared daggers at the upper stands representatives.

Geneva raised an eyebrow, “If your table is unable to come to a consensus, Diamond City will forfeit its vote.”

Malcolm waved a hand in annoyance, “Fine.”

“Alright. Diamond City officially abstains. If we could have the ballots, please?”

Kessler soon had a rumpled pile of paper in front of her and she quickly went to work, first counting them with the efficiency of a card dealer, then dividing them into two piles. She went through the entire process three times before finally sitting back. “The nays have it. By five votes. The motion does not pass.”

“Recount!”

She glared down at Malcolm, “Are you really trying to suggest I cannot count to thirty?”

He grumbled to himself but sat down.

Geneva smiled over at Ella, “I’d like to welcome General Bradley to rejoin us at the table, please.”

Polite applause filled the field as she walked to her seat, but she paused before sitting down. “I just wanted to say...I very, very much appreciate the show of support I’ve received here today and...and I’ll work very hard to ensure I regain whatever trust I’ve lost from some of you. I’m very sorry for --”

“Just shut up and sit down for once, El. We’ve already wasted enough time on this bullshit.” A sharp voice cut through Ella’s speech and she blinked at the representative from Sanctuary.

“Marcy!” The reprimand came from Garvey himself, but the woman looked decidedly indifferent to his disapproval.

“Right. Right. Thanks, Marcy...sorry.” She quickly sat down and slipped her hat back on, giving Preston a shrug and a smile in the face of his exasperation. “Shall we continue?”

That evening, more than five hours after Ella’s close call with impeachment, the newly minted Treaty of Diamond City was officially hammered out, signed and ratified by the members of the Commonwealth Congress. The Q & A directed at the Brotherhood that followed was surprisingly subdued, with only a few clarifications regarding trade and recruitment policies needed. Arthur wasn’t entirely sure if those who’d voted to keep Ella in office had decided if the Brotherhood was good enough for her, it was good enough for everyone, but he was glad to not get picked apart like they’d planned for.

The dinner that followed was, by all accounts, a far less dignified affair than had probably been hoped for, with the Bobrov brothers surprise gift of unlimited booze and Hancock’s gift for turning even the tamest of parties into full-blown ragers. The fireworks show, which was meant to be the finale for the evening, instead just signaled a brief pause in the revelry as the attendants turned their eyes skyward to stare in wonder at the dazzling pyrotechnics provided by the Minutemen.

Most attendants did, anyway.

Arthur found himself unable to keep his attention on the display, and instead found himself watching Ella watching them, hands over her ears to shield them from the booms and laughing like a delighted child at every explosion.

Whether his staring was finally caught in her peripheral or something else, she eventually turned and watched him watching her for a moment before waving and pointing up at the sky excitedly, as if he’d simply missed that the fireworks had started. He chuckled and waved back, grinning wide when she comically jumped at a particularly loud blast and went back to staring at the heavens in awe.

He kept his gaze on her. He had a much brighter sight to watch right in front of him.


	5. Article 4 - A Notion is Drafted

The leak aboard the Prydwen was proving more difficult to track than Arthur had initially imagined it would.

Quinlan had, after profusely apologizing several times, provided them with a list of every scribe, knight, and squire he could remember accessing his terminal. The list was long, but not overly so, and every single person on it had been extensively questioned by a team that Arthur had selected himself consisting of Cade, Kells and Teagan. Cade and Kells were both excellent judges of character and Teagan was terrifying enough to junior staff members to nettle answers out of even the most tight-lipped of subjects.

Still, no one had confessed. Several of their suspects had, in fact, offered to assist in the search, eager to root out the traitor in their midst.

Frustrated with the investigation, Arthur had authorized a stop-gap measure, and ordered Quinlan to password protect his private communications. He also personally installed a sign-in system that required whoever used the Proctor’s terminal to give their personal IDs before access to the Codex or Brotherhood records could be granted.

It was the best they could do for now.

He was down in the equipment maintenance bay with Ingram, assisting in putting the finishing touches on Ella’s new, custom-built Sentinel armor, when Danse showed up, looking rather flustered for a man of his rank.

Arthur looked up from adjusting one of the shock absorbers and immediately frowned. “Paladin Danse. Is something wrong?”

“Ella...that is, Sentinel Bradley is upstairs, sir. She’s asked to speak with you.”

Now that was something strange. He was fairly certain she’d never actually been on the Prydwen wearing her Brotherhood rank before. “Sentinel Bradley, or General Bradley?” He stood and started wiping the grease off his hands.

“I’m fairly certain she’s both today, sir.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “Very well.” He nodded to Ingram. “See that someone rechecks that leg after the next stress test. I’m not authorizing use in combat until those numbers stabilize a bit.”

She nodded back, “Of course, Elder. We won’t let you down, sir.”

He tossed the rag on a nearby workbench and followed Danse up the ladder. “Is there something wrong? Did she say?”

“No, sir. Garvey is with her though...and Piper.”

Arthur grumbled. Garvey was alright, but Piper was... _Piper._ “I see.”

“She’s on the Command Deck. Would you like a minute to clean up, sir?”

He stepped off the ladder and rubbed his fingers together. He could still feel the grease there and this didn’t seem like an emergency. “Yes, thank you, Paladin. Please let her know I’ll be up shortly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Danse headed on up and Arthur walked with purpose to his chambers, giving a perfunctory nod to the Knights currently on guard duty. The moment his door was closed, he leaned against it, taking a deep, calming breath while his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

She was here. She’d come of her own volition to his ship. He would have liked it better if she’d come alone, of course, but still.

It had been just a few weeks since Diamond City. They’d traded amicable letters in the meantime, his mostly soothing explanations of how little being a Brotherhood Governor would actually impact her life, and hers typically revolving around her communities and their upcoming Commonwealth-wide harvest festival.

It should have been more than enough, but it wasn’t. Not even close.

He quickly showered and redressed in his officer’s fatigues and battlecoat, taking the time to make sure his boots looked shiny, but not too shiny, before he headed back out. The sedate pace he had to keep as Elder frustrated the man to no end, but eventually he ascended to the top of the Prydwen, and there she was.

His Ella.

Danse had been right to be confused. She stood at parade rest in a mishmash of an outfit. A Brotherhood bomber jacket over wastelander clothes and her Minuteman hat perched on her head. He honestly wasn’t quite sure what to even call her right now.

Her eyes met his and he was surprised at the anger there, almost intimidated. His mind raced along, trying to think up anything the Brotherhood could have possibly done lately to piss her off, but nothing came.

“Elder Maxson.”

He decided to err on the side of caution. “General Bradley. Welcome back to the Prydwen.”

The anger was still there, but she smiled at him and he was surprised at how relieved he felt. “Thank you, Elder. I just wish we were here under happier circumstances.”

He folded his arms and frowned down at her companions. Garvey looked angry as well, surprisingly so for someone so even-tempered. Piper just stared at the floor and refused to look at anyone. Odd. “And what circumstances are we meeting under, exactly?”

Her face was a thundercloud, “We have discovered the source of the leaked information, Elder. I am sorry to say it was my fault.”

Garvey’s brow furrowed, “General--”

“Preston, we talked about this. It _is_ my fault.” She took a deep breath, “While acting as my courier, Piper Wright managed to use an encoded holotape to download all the information off of Quinlan’s terminal.” A holo came out of her pocket and she handed it over. “I’m sorry. She had no right and is being punished for this...this treason.”

Piper’s head came up at that and Arthur was surprised at the tears in her eyes. “Blue, please. I didn’t know they’d try to--”

“Enough.” Ella stepped away from her and closer to Arthur. “I want you to know she was not acting on my orders, Elder Maxson. I swear it.”

He stared at the holo in his hand and then at Ella’s face. The anger hadn’t faded a bit from her eyes, but there was worry there, too. Worry he wouldn’t believe her and all the work they’d done to make their factions amicable with each other would be gone just like that. His gaze reluctantly left her and settled on Piper. “What is the meaning of this, civilian?”

She went back to staring at the floor. “I just...Blue never talks about what she does for you ass...people. I figured there had to be a story there and...I never thought they’d try to get rid of her as General, I just thought they’d demand she resign from the Brotherhood.” Piper finally looked up enough to stare at Ella. “I’m so sorry, Blue.”

Ella ignored the apology. “Xavier has already searched her house and office. This holo is the only copy and we were unable to find any other evidence of espionage. Preston is escorting her home after this and we’ll have her placed under house arrest for a month. She won’t be allowed to leave Diamond City. I’ve also banned her from all Minutemen settlements for a period of no less than six months after.” She sighed, “I’m truly sorry. I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“When did all of this happen?”

“She says just the last time she visited the airport, when we invited you to the signing.”

Danse’s face went a bit slack. “Miss Cait wasn’t involved, was she?”

Ella shook her head, “No. She had no idea. Piper acted on her own. Cait’s...a fair ways past upset at being used as a distraction, and may God have mercy on Piper for that.”

Arthur handed the holo off to Danse. “Have this destroyed, Paladin.”

“Yes, sir.”

He glared down at the top of Piper’s head, “Were you Brotherhood, I’d have already you thrown in the brig...but as you are technically a free citizen, I will instead permanently banish you from the Prydwen, the airport, Cambridge Police Station, and any other Brotherhood held territory in perpetuity. If you are found in violation of this order, you will be shot on sight. Is this clear?”

“Yes.”

Preston took her arm. “Come on, Piper. We’ve got a ways to walk.”

“I can offer the use of a vertibird if it gets her out of my territory faster.”

The lieutenant tipped his hat a bit. “Thanks, but I think the walk will do her some good. She’s got a lot to think about.” They headed out the door and Ella watched them go, a look of immense disappointment and hurt on her face.

“Does this mean if the Commonwealth officially becomes a Brotherhood colony, Piper will have to move?”

He thought for a moment. Certainly that’s what it ought to mean, but there was deep sadness buried under Ella’s simmering temper. As rough as this particular patch in their friendship was bound to be, he doubted the reporter’s shocking lapse in judgement would sever it completely. “As governor, you would be permitted to amend her sentence as you see fit.”

She nodded a little before sighing heavily. “Arthur, I’m...God, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, “It’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is, isn’t it? I sent her here.”

“You acted in good faith, Ella. She’s a grown woman. Her actions are her own.” He acknowledged Danse’s concerned look with a slight nod and motioned for the paladin to go on about his business of incinerating the tape. “How did you figure it out?”

“I didn’t, actually. Deacon overheard gossip in town and he and Xavier did a little digging.” Her jaw clenched just a little, “She tried to deny it at first, but I could see she was lying...I guess she forgot what my old job was.”

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Betrayal from within is never easy to see. You put your faith in those around you, as you should, but sometimes it's bound to--”

“Bite me in the ass?”

Arthur chuckled, “I was going to say sometimes it's bound to backfire, but alright. Yes. This time it bit you in the ass.”

“You almost sound like Preston.”

“Garvey’s a smart man.”

“That he is.” She chuckled, “I don’t envy Piper. He’s going to lecture her from here to Diamond City.”

“Sounds brutal.”

“Oh, it is. You don’t even know. The way he can sound so _disappointed_ in you can...well, it can just break your heart.”

He smiled and reluctantly moved his hand from her shoulder, “Not that you would have any experience with that sort of thing, I’m sure.”

“Of course not.” A corner of her mouth quirked up. “So, what’s the standard Brotherhood punishment for something like this? For me, I mean. Harboring a saboteur and all.”

“Ella, I’m not going to punish you for the actions of one foolish individual.”

That playful smile was surely going to be the death of him. “So no time in the brig? No stocks or public flogging on the flight deck?”

The idea of Ella, held helpless in stocks under his authority while he doled out physical punishment was enough to make his mouth water and he shook his head, not trusting his voice at the moment.

“Hmm...well, good. That’s a relief...and Deacon owes me twenty caps.” She laughed, “He bet you’d at least try to take me over your knee and--”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” He hated to interrupt her but a few more flippant remarks like that and the tight control he kept on his inner self would surely snap.

“Well…”, she thought it over and finally wrinkled her nose a bit. “I would, but I should get home to Shaun. He’s expecting me and I do hate being away from him any more than I have to. Maybe another time.”

He felt a peculiar mixture of disappointment and admiration wash over him. “Of course...if I may say, you seem to be an exemplary mother. Shaun’s a very lucky child.”

She blinked at him and her cheeks went a bit pink. “Oh, I...thank you. I try.”

“I’d still like to meet him someday. If you were alright with it, of course.”

Ella nodded, “Sure. I meant what I said in that letter, you know. I wouldn’t mind hosting you, but my people…”, she trailed off, shrugging.

“Yes, I know. I did have a thought on that.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes, I...well, I thought perhaps if I simply appeared the same as any other wastelander, it wouldn’t send up such an alarm.”

She frowned, “You as a wastelander?”

He nodded, “Yes, I purchased some clothes from Diamond City and--”

Her sudden outburst of uproarious laughter caught him off guard. “You...you as a wastelander! Oh, my God.” She was laughing so hard tears were forming in her eyes and she finally had to double over while Arthur fumed next to her.

“I am quite well versed in the art of camouflage.”

She was laughing so hard she’d started to snort. “Cam-camouflage!”

Arthur folded his arms. Would there ever be an encounter with Ella where she didn’t make him feel like a child at some point? “I don’t see what’s so funny. If you, a pre-war lawyer, can pull it off, why can’t I?”

Her hand went over her mouth to try and stifle the chortling and she shook her head a little. “Because I wasn’t born a princess, Arthur. Goodness gracious.”

His frown grew, “I am not royalty, Ella.”

“Bull, and if I may add, _shit.”_ She held his gaze, or tried to anyway while battling back a severe case of the giggles. “Man, you must really be dying for some meatloaf, huh? Is that what this is? Because I gave Danse that recipe, you know. It’s not hard to make.”

“It’s not about the damn meatloaf.”

“Okay, okay. Sure.” She wiped the last tear away. “Well, let’s see what we’re working with.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

“Your disguise. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Now?”

“No, tomorrow...yes, now.” She shooed him towards the ladder. “Come on, kiddo. Chop chop.”

He found himself somehow being propelled down the ladder and involuntarily stiffened when he saw the Knights guarding the area. Ella seemed to catch on quickly and respectfully stood behind him, quiet as a mouse with a calm, noble sort of expression on her face as she followed him into his room and shut the door behind them with a dignified nod at the guards.

As soon as the door closed she made a rude noise. “Jeez, doesn’t that ever get annoying?”

She was in his room. She was in his room. She was in his room. He blinked and moved a good three feet away from her before he trusted himself to speak. “What?”

“Having to pretend like that all the time? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course not.” She shook her head, “Do you ever just get to be Arthur the man, and not Arthur the Elder? _Ever?”_

He smiled wryly at her assumption that there even was such a divide. “I am always the Elder, Ella.”

She glanced around at his spartan private chambers for a moment, eyes lingering on the Diamond City baseball cap on the shelf above his bed and frowned a bit. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Perhaps, sometimes, but it is what it is.”

Her eyes went soft and sad, “You were only sixteen when they made you Elder, weren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Just a baby. That’s awful.”

He frowned at her. No one had ever had _that_ particular reaction to his being named the youngest Elder in Brotherhood history. “I was not a _baby_. I’d already defeated a super mutant army and--”

“Yes, yes, I know. I read Quinlan’s book or whatever. It was on Piper’s holotape...have you actually read it yet?”

“No, Quinlan prefers that I not until he’s finished the final draft.”

“Well, I’d definitely edit out the bits that make him sound in love with you.”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes before closing them and reciting in a singsong sort of tone that reminded him of a Nuka-Cola commercial from her time. “Arthur Maxson is happy to be one thing... the _perfect_ human specimen, and example of _everything_ a human being can achieve.” Her eyes opened and twinkled a bit while she grinned at him, “Perfect human specimen, huh? Says who?”

He groaned internally and tried to not let his frustration show, “Quinlan can be...a bit excessive when it comes to his writing. I’ll assign someone a little less sycophantic to edit it before he publishes.”

“I wasn’t aware you allowed non-sycophants on the ship.”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

She seemed weirdly delighted that he’d caught onto her teasing instead of bristling up at it. “Ah, you got me. Alright, enough stalling. Let’s see this amazing disguise.”

Was this seriously happening right now? The woman of his dreams, in his room at her own insistence, was now asking him to strip in front of her? Impossible. “Ah...are you entirely certain…”

She walked over and sat at his desk, spinning the chair around a bit. “If you don’t look like a titular character from the Prince and the Pauper, you can come home for dinner with me right now. It’s Thursday. That means Codsworth will be making stew.”

And if he behaved himself, maybe he’d get escorted by her back across the island in the moonlight to the ferry like Danse must have been. Okay. Alright. He could do this. Arthur tossed his coat on the bed and started unzipping his fatigues when Ella turned around in the chair and squeaked in alarm, covering her eyes despite the fact that he barely had the zipper past his chest.

“What the hell are you doing!”

He paused, “I’m...getting undressed? I thought--”

“Bathroom, Arthur!”

Well that made a hell of a lot more sense than what he’d thought was about to happen. “Right. Right, of course. My apologizes.”

She nodded and kept her eyes covered as he gathered the tattered rags from his dresser and made his way into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“You about gave me a heart attack!” Her voice was muffled by the steel bulkhead but still loud enough that he could clearly hear the laughter in it.

Arthur chuckled quietly, “I did say I was sorry!”

“You Brotherhood fellas have surprisingly few personal boundaries!”

He shucked off the uniform and stepped into the traditional garb of a typical wasteland explorer and the called a bit louder through the door. “I _said_ I’m _sorry!”_

“I wasn’t just talking about you! Danse and I shared a room once and he about gave me a heart attack, too.”

He frowned, severely, at the entire idea. “Oh?”

“Yeah, it was back at Sanctuary. They have a wash house and I offered to take his things to be cleaned and he just...stripped. Right in front of me!” She laughed, “I felt like my face was on fire!”

His hands tightened on the belt and he almost bent the buckle. “Oh, that’s…” Not fine. It wasn’t fine at all. Danse had no interest in Ella, he knew, but that was still--

“He said we were comrades in arms and it shouldn’t matter, but I told him, it most certainly mattered! I know the rules about such things are a little different nowadays, but there’s a limit!”

Arthur finally finished getting himself in disguise and stepped from the bathroom. “There certainly is.”

Ella turned from his chessboard and her eyes went wide as a slow smile crept across her face. “Well...look at you.”

He held his arms out and turned slowly. “See? Just another settler.”

“Uh-huh. Walk across the room.”

“What?”

“Walk. Across the room.”

He frowned in confusion, but crossed the room a few times, his irritation growing as she shook her head. “What? What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s not the clothes, Arthur. It’s you.”

“The clothes make the man, don’t they?”

“Not when that man is the Elder, apparently.” She sighed, “You still...I dunno, _move_ like the Elder.”

He folded his arms and glowered at her, “And how does the Elder _move,_ exactly?”

A wicked sort of smile appeared and was gone in an instant. She sniffed at him primly, “I’m sure I don’t know. Why not ask one of your barracks bunnies to explain it to you?”

He blinked at her. “My what?”

“Oh, is that not what they’re called anymore? Guess things have changed a little since my time.” She stood and fussed with the collar of his shirt for a moment. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but you still look like a conquering hero, even dressed like this. Solid A for effort, though.”

She was close enough that he could smell whatever sort of soap she used and he stared down at her. “So I can’t go?” It came out sounding a lot more like the wistful, lonely squire he’d once been than the elder he was and her eyes went soft and sad again.

“I’m sorry. I wish you could. Maybe try something a little more... _you_ next time. Like a caravan guard or something.”

“Oh. Right.”

Ella watched his face carefully for a moment, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully. “When was the last time you were off ship?”

He already itched to be back in his fatigues. “Two days ago. I supervised Knight Sergeant Gavil when a shipment of coolant arrived from the Capital Wasteland. It requires special handling.”

Her head tilted, “And the last time you were off base?”

“Diamond City.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? At _all?_ You’re happy to stay in this...floating sardine can all the time?”

No. “I am the High Elder of the entire Brotherhood. It’s imperative that my location be known at all times.”

“Uh-huh. Do you even have the freedom to just...I dunno, take a walk sometimes?”

He frowned, “It’s not about freedom, it’s about making sure the Brotherhood continues to have a sense of stability. Before my time, after the second Elder Lyons, we cycled through almost a dozen Elders. It caused a lot of unrest and hardship and nearly destroyed the Eastern chapter altogether.”

“So you have to pay the price? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Life is never fair, Ella. You of all people should know that.”

Her eyes flickered with understanding. “Oh, wow. Deja vu.” She turned away from him and sat on the little table he sometimes took private meals, and eager scribes, on. Her feet swung freely and she motioned for him to sit at his desk. “Has Danse ever told you about my husband, Nate?”

Arthur reluctantly sat down, frowning a bit at how the fabric of his loose pants seemed to scratch at his skin. “He mentioned he was a soldier.” It had also been in the initial report from Quinlan. General Elinor Bradley, pre-war army wife and lawyer.

She chuckled a bit. “A soldier. God, if only. Nate would have been thrilled to be just another soldier.” She shook her head at some intimate memory. “Tell me, Arthur, how much did they make you learn about pre-war America?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you learn our military history? Wars fought, that sort of thing.”

He nodded, “I learned a great deal of that when I was still a squire. All squires study military strategy and history.”

“Ever heard of an M2 Bradley?”

“Yes, it was a military fighting vehicle, similar to a tank, but lighter. Typically held a crew of nine. Named after the great World War II General Omar Bradley, a man who rose from abject poverty and became one of the greatest military leaders the world had ever known. They called him ‘the G.I.’s General’.”

“Very good.” She smiled and he felt like he’d just earned a gold star. “My husband, Nathaniel Nelson Bradley, was the last living male descendant of General Omar Bradley...until we had Shaun, anyway.”

“That’s...remarkable.”

“It certainly seemed remarkable in certain circles.” She shrugged, “His entire family was steeped in military tradition. They all went to West Point, all served their country. It’s just...what they did. Nate in particular was...gifted in military strategy. Exceptionally so. Top of his class and all that. Everyone expected great things from him.”

That sounded familiar. “What rank did he achieve?”

“He was a colonel by the time he was injured and they chaptered him out. He was only thirty when it happened.”

He must have been very gifted indeed. From everything Arthur had studied, most men weren’t colonels until they were at least five years older. “What sort of injury was it?”

“Severe nerve damage and a TBI. It almost destroyed his short term memory and sometimes he couldn’t feel his right leg.” She frowned at the memory, “It was hard for him to come to terms with at first, but do you know what he told me after all the physical therapy was finished?”

“What?”

“That he was grateful. My husband, a man who had never once stopped pushing himself and reaching ever higher, was _grateful_ that he’d been hurt. He’d gone his whole life never questioning his purpose, never once thinking he could be anything but a military leader and that stupid turret blowing up right next to his head had changed all that. He said he felt free for the first time in his life.”

Arthur frowned at her. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I don’t want to see the same thing to happen to you.”

“Even if I were injured in such a way, I could still fulfill my duties as Elder.”

“Oh, God.” She rubbed her temples. “That’s not at all the point, I...okay, let’s say someone waved a magic wand and poof! You’re no longer Elder. What would you do?”

He thought for a moment and shook his head, “I suppose I would return to my former rank.”

She stared at him in exasperation. “No, I mean, if the Brotherhood didn’t exist _at all,_ what would you do? _Who would you be,_ Arthur?”

“I would be nothing without the Brotherhood.” The answer, drilled into him since the cradle, came from his mouth and he immediately knew it was somehow wrong by the horrified look on her face.

“Okay. Okay, maybe that was too hard of a question right now. I’m...I’m kind of...I want to help you, you know? But I have no idea how.” She shook her head sadly, “Nate would know the right thing to say. He always did.”

“Ella, I’m--”, the scratchiness was now unbearable and he stood. “Excuse me please. I’m going to get changed. One moment.” He waited just long enough for her to wave him off and went back into the bathroom, stripping off the offensive costume and stepping back into the familiar feel of smooth leather and armored vestments. His mind kept turning the question over and over. Who _would_ he be if he weren’t Brotherhood? When he returned, Ella was standing as well, closer to the door. He paused, worried he’d somehow offended her with his obvious distaste for all things wasteland. “Oh, are you leaving?”

She shook her head, “About to, but...you know, I’ve heard a lot about your power armor, Elder. Never had the pleasure of seeing it though. You keep it on the flight deck, right?”

This seemed an abrupt, but welcome, change of subject to Arthur. He smiled, “That’s right, I do. Would you care to see it?”

The smile she gave him back was radiant, “Yes. Yes, I would.”

He happily led her to the flight deck, explaining all the little modifications and special touches he’d added to his T-60f armor. She listened quietly, for once, murmuring encouraging words of praise and astonishment at every pause.

In retrospect, he should have known it was all too good to be true.

They finally reached his personal docking bay and he stood back, proud as a peacock as she exclaimed over the reinforced servos and custom paint job.

“Is that a jet pack? Your armor has an _actual jet pack,_ Elder? So sci-fi!”

Arthur noticed the proud smiles of the deck crew as their only sentinel gushed and fawned over him and felt bolstered by the clearly high regard his men held them both in. “Thank you, Sentinel Bradley.”

She leaned against the armor and he was struck again by how tiny she actually was. “So? You gonna show it off a little or what?” Her eyes finally noticed the stares of the crew and she smiled beguilingly, somehow managing to keep it only a little sassy. _“Sir?”_

He grinned back. He could definitely get used to her calling him that. “I suppose I could.” She stepped back and he slipped into the armor like it was a second skin, amazed again at how comforting the vibrations thrown off by the suit booting up could be. Felt like the first time every time. He took a few steps forward and jumped a bit so she could see how the special shocks almost completely negated his impact on the metal beneath his feet.

“It looks good on you, Elder.” Ella clapped appreciatively and then peered over the side of the deck. “How about we go down to the tarmac and you can show me what she can really do?”

“Oh, well, that would probably be ill-advised. An Elder suddenly departing in full power armor can be something of a call to arms. Also, my helmet is in the shop for maintenance. You understand.”

Ella’s head tilted a bit, “Not really. Are you saying you can’t leave the ship without... _permission?”_ Her eyebrow lifted as she stared at him as if daring him to not acknowledge the absurdity of it all.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying I typically have a reason for leaving the ship.”

She shrugged, “You want to, right? Isn’t that reason enough.”

“No.”

“Hmm.” She looked back over the edge of the deck. “Say, Elder, your jet pack is fully functional, right?”

He scoffed, “Of course it is.”

“Fantastic.” Ella backed up a few feet, her heels right at the edge of the drop, and grinned at his confused expression. “Whoops!” She hopped backward, right into thin air and he felt panic immediately flood his system.

“Ella!” He bolted after her and launched into the void, too focused on catching up with her to even enjoy the feel of free-fall.

She had almost a hundred feet on him already and he had to use his pack to overtake her. Her hat passed him in the air as he finally made contact, wrapping an arm around her and feeling a whole new kind of rage at her carefree laughter.

“What the hell are you doing!” He had to yell to be heard over the icy wind, but had it not been there, he was pretty sure he’d have been yelling anyway.

“Giving you a reason to get off the Prydwen, of course.” She grinned wide at him. “Feels like a roller-coaster, doesn’t it?”

“I have no idea what that is, Ella.”

She just laughed at his response and the pointed above them, _“Oh!_ My hat!”

Arthur felt like he was losing his mind. “Your _hat?_ That’s what you’re concerned about right now?”

“Preston will be mad at me if I lose it!” She pouted at him and kept pointing.

“Goddammit.” He grumbled and activated the thrusters on his pack, slowing their descent until her ridiculous tricorn was within reach before grabbing it and shoving it back on her head.

“Thanks.” She kept it on with a hand and held tighter to the handlebar on his breastplate.

He didn’t know what to do with the sweet smile she gave him, so he chose to ignore it altogether. “Prepare for landing.”

“Right.”

He slowed their ascent further and tried to touchdown as lightly as he could, but Ella still winced a bit at the jostling. Arthur let her go and she hopped down, looking invigorated and quite pleased with herself.

“Whew! My hands are freezing now! That wasn’t so hard, was it? Where there’s a will, there’s a way!” She turned back to him and rolled her eyes at his incensed glare. “Oh, now what?”

He didn’t even know where to begin. “What is wrong with you! You could have been killed!”

She gave him a fond sort of look, “Oh, Arthur, calm down.”

“Do not tell me to calm down, Bradley! If you ever pull a stunt like that again, it will be the last time I let you board the Prydwen!”

“Let me?” She blinked at him, “You aren’t going to _let me?”_

“That’s right.”

Whatever she was about to say got cut off as a full contingent of Brotherhood Knights surrounded them.

“Elder Maxson! Are you alright?”

“What are you orders, sir?”

“Are we mobilizing, Elder?”

Ella looked around at the figures who seemed to have materialized from nowhere and her shoulders drooped a bit. “Christ on a cracker.”

Arthur set aside his anger for a moment and took a deep breath, “At ease, soldiers. I was merely demonstrating the T-60’s superior impact dampening capabilities for the Sentinel.”

One of the younger Knights immediately grinned at Ella, “It’s impressive, isn’t it, Sentinel Bradley?”

She smiled back, “Yes, it’s truly remarkable what technology can do.” Her smile turned to Arthur and she gleefully ignored his growing ire, all but batting her eyelashes at him. “Don’t you agree, Elder Maxson?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “I believe that technology, in the _right_ hands, can sometimes be quite beneficial.” His gaze returned to his soldiers. “Please return to your duties, Knights.”

They saluted as one and trotted back to their positions under his watchful eye as Ella waved cheerfully.

When they were more than one hundred yards away, she turned back to him. “Well, that’s probably the nicest bunch of jailers I’ve ever seen. I bet you can’t even take a nap without someone shitting their pants over it, huh?”

He frowned at her, “Your vulgarity is neither appreciated nor necessary.”

“Oh, Arthur.” She sighed heavily. “Whatever am I going to do with you?” Her hand reached up and grabbed hold of the handlebar again. She pulled him down towards her while she stood on tiptoe and pecked his cheek. “You work on that disguise a little more and come visit me someday, alright? I’ll see you around.”

Once again, his brain sputtered to a halt and all he could do was stand there. “I-yes. See you.”

She slipped around him, headed for her little Minuteman dingy anchored offshore and just like that, was gone again.

By the time Arthur returned to the Prydwen, word of their little adventure in free falling had already spread through the ship. Cade actually met him before he even left the gantry to quietly rant at him about the dangers of allowing an unarmored participant in such an endeavour. His tone was _almost_ respectful and Arthur nodded along patiently, knowing any protest would just make it worse.

Danse, however, who had actually experienced life in the field with Ella, gave him a sympathetic smile and shrug as they passed.

With how unsurprised the paladin seemed, Arthur wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what sort of nonsense she got up to when they were out taming the wastes.

He snorted to himself as he fumed and headed back to his chambers. And to think, she’d once claimed to always be on her _best behavior_ around him. He had half a mind to draft up a letter to Garvey about her stunt. A lecture from everyone’s favorite lieutenant would serve her right. Especially since he seemed to be the only man alive who could rein her capricious nature in occasionally.

Arthur sat down at his desk and his hands settled over his keyboard as he thought it over. Tattling to her second in command was hardly behavior becoming of an Elder, but that punishment Deacon had bet on, the spanking over his knee, crept up in the back of his mind. If even one of her top men had laughingly suggested corporal punishment as a possibility, maybe lectures weren’t the only admonishments Garvey doled out.

He could definitely see any man who spent extended amounts of time with Ella having to eventually resort to drastic measures like that, chain of command or not.

Then again, the lieutenant had a well-earned reputation of being patient, thoughtful and unflappably calm under pressure. And he _had_ known Ella the longest of any of her friends. Perhaps her antics simply rolled off his back like water over a duck’s by this point.

He sighed irritably and turned from the monitor. Acknowledging her little stunt beyond today would probably just add fuel to her wildfire.

His eyes finally landed on his chessboard and he studied it. He’d been playing himself lately, trying to freshen up his skills a bit before he sent an opening move to Ella, but pieces were out of place. A bishop from the white side had taken a black Knight that now lay next to the board.

It was a risky move. One he wouldn’t have made himself. There were at least three ways he could immediately capture the rogue bishop, but...no, the way the pieces were, at least two of those moves could lead her to check in a handful of steps…

Bait. She was clearly trying to bait him with clever strategy disguised as rash carelessness.

He considered all the pieces in play and carefully slid a rook a few spaces forward. A conservative move, to be sure, but a strong one nonetheless.

Quinlan had been right. Their sentinel was certainly a clever girl.

A knock at his door roused him from his contemplation and he looked over his shoulder, smiling a little in surprise at the figure standing there.

“Knight Rath. It’s been a while since you’ve darkened my doorway. Anything I can help you with?”

She pouted a little and stepped inside, “I certainly hope so, sir.”

He turned his chair to face her properly and motioned for her to close the door. It had been at least a month since he’d fucked her on his own. She seemed to prefer Danse or taking them both at once over private time with the Elder. “Is Paladin Danse busy?”

Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor, “No, sir, I don’t think so. Should I get him?”

“Only if you want to.” When she didn’t move, he scooted his chair forward a bit and motioned to the table in front of him. “Strip and then have a seat, Rath.”

“Yes, sir.” She quickly stepped out of her fatigues and walked to the table, sitting on it facing him and making no effort to cover herself.

Of course, a woman like Rath had little to be ashamed of when nude.

His hands went to her knees and he opened them wider, “Scoot back a bit, Knight.”

She immediately obeyed, canting her hips up a little so he got a good look at her sex. “Like this, sir?”

“M’hmm.” He kneaded the firm flesh of her thighs for a moment before running his hands up and using his thumbs to pull her open before him. “I can’t even remember the last time it was just the two of us. Do you?”

“Yes, sir. Five weeks ago.”

“Good memory, Rath.”

“Thank you, Elder Maxson.”

His right hand moved up a bit, roughly playing with her rosy, sensitive nipple and observing the fascinating effect it had throughout her body. The female form really was a wonder when you got right down to it. He planted his hand on her chest and firmly pushed back; a wordless command. She settled back on her elbows before laying fully on the cold metal table, helpless and fully exposed before him.

Arthur leaned forward and barely breathed over her core, chuckling a little when she shivered, the pink flesh already turning creamy and slick. He slid two fingers into her and was genuinely surprised at how she immediately clamped down around him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it’s been a bit since you’ve fucked anyone, Knight.”

Her legs lifted and her feet found the edge of the table, giving her leverage to work against his hand. “Yes, sir. It has been a while.”

“Really?” That surprised him, too. Rath was quite the hot ticket on board from what he’d observed, and personally experienced as well. He knew she’d quickly become one of Danse’s favorite playmates after their initial time together.

She moaned and squirmed against his hand. “Yes. Please, sir? Please fuck me?”

“I’m getting there, Knight.” He finally dipped in to taste her, sucking the tender inner lips into his mouth and running his tongue over them, tugging gently before releasing her with a satisfied smack and settling back over her swollen clit, watching with dark eyes as she writhed before him.

Ever since Danse’s talk of what made someone a selfish lover, Arthur had been making attempts at being selfless more often, even in these minor, meaningless encounters. He’d take any practice he could get so he could be as prepared as possible if ever he and Ella…

Rath bucked against his mouth, recapturing his wandering attention, and he brought his left hand up to hold her by the hip, steadying her movements as he worked. His right hand pressed deeper into her as his tongue and teeth drove the tension building in her ever up until she finally cried out in release, panting and thanking him breathlessly when she finally found her voice again.

She rose up as if to kiss him and he pushed his soaking fingers into her mouth, smiling in a generous sort of way at her while she went to work cleaning him off.

Practice or not, he’d still hate for anyone to get the wrong idea about these sessions he indulged in. If she wanted the illusion of true affection, she’d have to get it from someone else.

He stood and unzipped his own suit, pushing it just past his hips before rolling her over and pulling her flush against him as he buried his cock deep within her, grunting in satisfaction at how hot and welcoming her body was. Arthur gathered her arms behind her and looped one of his own through them, another around her rib cage and pulling her back until she was bent in a graceful arc that he knew would put delectable pressure on that special spot deep within her.

Rath was tall for a woman, but not so tall that his grinding didn’t bring her up on her toes until her body adjusted to his length. He groaned into her ear as he was finally able to press balls deep into her heat, immediately increasing both the power and speed of his thrusts. Her ripe breasts caught his eye and groped her with calloused hands, soaking up the sweet cries his ministrations were able to pull from her throat.

His lips grazed her neck, the only gentle touch in a storm of sensation, and she shuddered around his cock. Arthur chuckled a bit. Sentimentality, even just imagined, was such a powerful stimulant.

He added a slight roll to his hips at the apex of each carefully controlled thrust, pressing forcefully against her g-spot and a feeling of satisfaction rolled through him as her breathing became harsh and labored.

“That feel good, Knight?”

Her head lolled back against his chest and she whimpered, “Yes, sir.”

His hand slid back around to clutch at her hip, “Going to come for me again?”

“Yes. Yes, sir. Oh, God, please…”

“That’s right. You love this, don’t you?” He drove into her exceptionally hard, leaning back and bringing her with him until her feet left the floor entirely.

She shuddered and spasmed around him, her walls rippling around him in delicious waves. “Fuck, oh, fuck, sir, I--”

Arthur unceremoniously dropped her back against the table, gripping the opposite side with both hands for leverage as he savagely speared her spasming pussy. It only took a few thrusts before he was emptying his seed into her, the head of his cock pressed firmly against the very top of her channel as he pressed as hard as he could into the lush, pillowy feel of her swollen sex. A rare moment of human weakness snuck up on him as he gazed down at her soft skin and dark, disheveled hair and he very nearly dropped a kiss along her back, changing it into a harsh scrape of his teeth at the last second. When it caused her to gasp and a weak fluttering to erupt again around his cock, he chuckled against her skin. He very much doubt a tender kiss would have earned him that.

He waited until her aftershocks had faded to the slightest of pulses before he took a breath to steady himself and stood, sliding out of her easily and immediately slipping back into his fatigues. By the time she roused herself enough to look back at him, he was put back together again like nothing had ever happened.

Arthur gave her his best indulgent Elder smile. “Take your time, Knight. You earned it. Mess call is in ten. Please close the door behind you when you leave.” He turned back to his chessboard, mind refreshed by the endorphins released through physical exertion and pondered Ella’s madcap strategy, missing the hurt in Rath’s eyes altogether.

“Yes, sir.”

  
  


About a week after Ella’s visit, Paladin Danse and Knight-Captain Cade both sat at the edge of Arthur’s private table, frowning at the Elder.

Cade spoke first, “I feel like we’re in some strange retelling of the Emperor’s New Clothes here, sir.”

“I’m still not sure I understand what the point of all this is, Elder? Why not just visit Ella at the Castle?”

Arthur sighed internally and tried his best to be patient. “Ella invited me to her home on the condition that I pass for one of the common folk. I have visited the Castle before and now I wish to visit her island. What’s difficult to understand about that?”

Danse still looked confused, “My presence really upset her civilians that much? It's never been an issue in any of her other settlements.”

“Ella told me the island is a refuge of sorts. The people there are more sensitive to outsiders than most.”

Cade took in his mercenary disguise with a critical eye. “And this is going to make them less sensitive? You look like a hired killer, sir.”

“Her neighbor on the island _is_ a hired killer, Cade.”

“Ah.”

“Is there a hat or something to go with it?”

“Yes, I have an assault mask. I’ll put it on before I arrive at the Castle. No one should even notice me.”

Danse sighed, “You can bet Deacon will. Xavier, too.”

He shrugged, “Even if they do, I have Ella’s permission. They can verify it via radio if needed.”

“You’re sure this was her idea?” Cade still didn’t seem convinced.

“Yes, I spoke with her in person about it. Her exact words were ‘work on that disguise a little more and come visit me’.”

“You said she had a problem with your walk, correct?”

He popped his neck a bit, frustrated with their lack of enthusiasm to no end. “Yes.”

Cade nodded thoughtfully, “Alright, let’s see it then.”

Arthur relaxed his shoulders and moved across the room, swaggering a bit like he remembered MacCready moving at the ball. He took three passes across the space before stopping back in front of them. “Well?”

Cade look like he wanted to laugh but was working very hard to keep his face blank. “It’s...certainly different than your normal walk, sir.”

Danse shook his head, “You look like you’re drunk, Elder.”

Cade snorted and ducked his head, clapping a hand over his mouth while he worked to regain his composure.

Arthur ignored him entirely. “Drunk or not isn’t the issue here, Paladin. Would you recognize me as Elder Maxson if you did not know me is the only concern I have.”

His eyes narrowed at Arthur thoughtfully. “With the disguise and the mask...no. Probably not.”

Cade had mostly managed to get his snickering under control and finally spoke up. “Definitely not, sir. I definitely cannot imagine the High Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel walking across the wastes like a drunken mercenary. I doubt _anyone_ could.”

He sighed, “You think I’m making myself a fool, don’t you?”

A bit of compassion flickered through the amusement. “No...of course not, Elder. I think you are a man on a mission of sorts.”

Danse nodded, “We support you in this, sir. We just want to make sure you’re thinking this through all the way, is all.”

Arthur gratefully took in the clear concern on his two confidants faces and smiled, “Thank you, Danse. You as well, Cade.”

“How exactly are you going to fly the coop? I doubt very much Quinlan or Kells is going to be fine with this little field trip.”

He glowered, “It is my ship, and I am the Elder. If I wish to visit my own sentinel, I shall.”

Cade exchanged a glance with the paladin. “Yes, of course, sir...but what if Paladin Danse goes with you? As an escort?”

Before he could object, Danse held his hands up, “Just on the vertibird, Elder. For appearances.”

He shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If you think it will alleviate their concerns.”

“It definitely will.” Cade clapped once and stood. “So when’s this visit happening?”

Arthur glanced at the clock. It was still early, hours before lunch. “I was hoping today perhaps?”

“Today?” Danse looked surprised but Cade just grinned.

“Today is perfect. Quinlan’s got that new data in from Mass Fusion and Kells is doing maintenance drills all day. They’ll both be so distracted they might not even notice you’ve left.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Ever since Ella’s assumption that he required permission to leave his own ship, he’d been extra irritated any time his responsibilities to his senior staff were thrown in his face. “Even if they did, it would not matter.”

“Of course, Elder.” Cade headed for the door, “I’ll head on back down to the medbay. That way, if anyone asks, I can truthfully say I last saw you right here.”

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and instead nodded graciously. “Thank you, Cade.”

“No problem, sir. Have a nice time.” He paused just before he closed the door and poked his head back in. “And for God’s sake, _behave yourself.”_

Arthur huffed irritably at the shut door. “The balls on that man.”

Danse chuckled, “You should change. Can’t very well board a vertibird in your disguise.”

“Right, right.” He carefully slipped out of the disguise and back into his regular uniform. “I want you to know, I greatly appreciate your assistance in this, Danse. Truly. I...I’m frustrated with my situation, is all.”

He nodded and stood, “I know. It’s alright.”

“What will you do while I’m gone?”

A rare sly look crossed the paladin’s face. “Miss Cait happens to reside at the Castle.” He shrugged, “Two birds with one stone and all that.”

Arthur smiled at him, “Good thinking. Your presence should also draw Deacon and Xavier’s eye as well.”

“Perhaps. They’re both shockingly observant, sir. Attempting to get around them is most likely a fool’s errand.”

He shoved his disguise and a partially dismantled sniper rifle into a small duffle he’d acquired for this very adventure. “As I said before, I have Ella’s permission. They can object all they want, but ultimately she’s their superior.”

“Yes, sir...I’m just not sure if they actually care about that or not.”

They headed for the flight deck and took a vertibird, Arthur doing the piloting himself and Danse helpfully explaining to the officer on duty that the Elder merely wished to brush up on his skills while he provided unnecessary but still technically required escort. The lancer-sergeant saluted as they left and Arthur was surprised at how relieved he felt once the man’s silhouette was indistinguishable from the rest of the ship.

Maybe he really should get out a bit more.

He easily found the parking lot from his last two visits and set down. Danse locked the bird up after setting the self-defense system on medium alert status. They were close enough to the Castle that super mutants and the like weren’t a concern, but they’d had a few warships stolen in the field by lucky raiders and Gunners in the past, which made security essential.

They moved along the path to the Castle’s front gates and Danse paused outside a wrecked fishing vessel. “You should change here, sir. I’ll go on ahead.”

He carefully stepped into the boat and headed into the cabin. “Sounds good. Thank you, Danse.”

“Good luck to you, sir.”

“You as well.”

Arthur watched the paladin head for the Castle and chuckled a bit at the pep in his step. He hoped actual progress between him and the little fighter could be made. Finally.

He quickly changed, stashing his regular clothes in the duffel and assembling the old rifle. With it and his bag carelessly slung over his shoulder, he looked just like any other gun-for-hire in the Commonwealth. He tugged the mask down over his head after checking the built-in goggles for smudges and hopped off the boat, no longer Elder.

He decided the swagger part of his walk was, in all likelihood, foolish and dropped it, opting instead for trying to keep his movements loose and relaxed. There had been a man, ages ago, Sarah’s second in the Lyon’s Pride, who had the same sort of arrogant stroll. Arthur knew, from the few years he’d spent growing up around Knight Thomas, or the Lone Wanderer as many wastelanders had called him, that the confidence in his stride came not from his unmatched prowess on the field of battle, impressive though it was. No, instead it was the cocky gait of a man who’d faced down death and laughed in its face.

He strolled up to the ferry dock that sat a good hundred yards from the Castle gates and waited until the Minuteman at the helm gave him a perfunctory nod and waved him aboard. The old outboard motor puttered to life and they disembarked across the bay, the water typically choppy for late November. Arthur leaned casually on the railing and hoped he exuded a mein of bored disinterest as the island grew on the horizon.

It only took a few minutes to cross, although it certainly felt a lot longer, and he stepped off the dock after giving the operator a careless sort of wave.

Spectacle Island. Finally.

He stood in the shadow of the covered dock and observed for a moment. The settlers here seemed...different from those he was used to seeing. Cleaner, anyway. Two little girls petting an ancient, grizzled looking tomcat in the sunshine caught his eye and he was astonished to realize they were genuine identical twins. He’d never seen twins in real life before. Pregnancies with multiples nearly always ended badly in the wastes.

There was a boardwalk that led up to an old, recently refurbished house that seemed to double as the island’s official government seat. A small barn sat off to the right of it that had been converted into some kind of supply depot. Probably handy for such a close proximity to the ferry landing.

He headed up the stairs from the dock onto the boardwalk proper and was immediately impressed at the bustling little community that unfolded before him. Sturdy homes and pleasant-looking shops tended by bustling settlers. It reminded him of old westerns he’d watched as a child, actually, with the raised walkways and main drag down the center of town. At the end of the ‘street’ seemed to be a large sign welcoming visitors to the island. The symbol on it was the same as the flag he’d seen at Curie’s table in Diamond City. The outline of an island on the horizon with a star rising behind it like the morning sun.

There was something else, too. Written in careful black block letters in the lower right corner of the sign. He squinted a little and just managed to read the top of the odd chart. ‘Scheduled Testing Hours’.

That seemed a little odd.

Arthur made his way over and studied it. It was clearly some sort of calendar, glass carefully overlaid on top so it would be protected from the elements. ‘November 2289’ was written in those same block letters and beneath that, times were listed on each day, usually in one hour increments.

Danse had said that the island was a laboratory of sorts. It seemed odd though that they advertised their testing schedules so openly.

Today was Friday, the twenty-ninth. According to the calendar, testing was scheduled for between nine and ten am. He checked his watch; quarter til ten. Whatever Ella and her friends were working on, she’d be finished by the time he reached her home.

Just off the boardwalk was a clearly marked walking trail that looked like it extended all around the island. He almost ignored it in favor of heading cross country, but several signs posted very kindly asked that all visitors stay on the marked paths ‘for your personal safety’, and he _was_ trying hard to be a good guest.

He sighed a bit at the idea of having to trek all the way around the island to her home but headed out anyway, choosing to take the southern trail as it seemed the most well-worn path.

Arthur walked past a small school and could spy though the windows children, younger than the twins he’d seen, taking lessons from a kind-looking woman with short, dark hair. The plaque on the school identified her as ‘Schoolmistress Eve Binet’. Her charges seemed bright and happily engaged in whatever lessons they were learning and it made Arthur smile a bit. Their cheery little brick schoolhouse was a far cry from the dark classrooms of the Citadel and Prydwen.

Perhaps he should speak to Quinlan about sprucing up the squires environments a bit as an experiment of sorts. See if they could increase productivity the way these settlers had.

The path was quiet as he walked. All the island’s inhabitants seemed to be busy with their respective duties and he rather delighted in the newly discovered freedom of passing by people and barely getting a nod of acknowledgement or the occasional inattentive wave.There were several farms along the way, as well, most with houses built right off the path. Brahmin grazed freely and while the crops had already been harvested, the hardy little mutfruit trees looked quite sturdy and perhaps even a bit larger than normal to his eye. He couldn’t be completely sure, of course, not being much of an agriculturist himself.

To his right, out in the shallows, were several desalinators stationed in the water, turning the briny water into sea salt and a fresh drinking supply for the community. Each machine had surprisingly sleek lines for something cobbled together in the wastes and he was impressed at just how quietly they ran.

In fact, he was altogether impressed with this tiny slice of post-apocalyptic paradise. There were even small fishing boats in the distance, using massive nets to pull in God only knew what from the ocean’s depths.

He finally came around the corner and found himself along the easternmost beach. A small spattering of homes, set a ways back from the raging sea and spaced far apart, and a large barn were the only buildings on this side of the island. His eyes spied a small playground behind the homes and he smiled. Of course Ella would think to build something so unnecessary and wonderful for her child.

Just three homes took up space here. Ella’s yellow cottage was smack in the middle, just as charming as he’d imagined it would be. Two stories with real glass windows and a covered porch with an old-fashioned swing hanging from it. It boasted a full rock foundation and smoke rose from the two chimneys. Hopefully that indicated she was actually home.

The house on the right was small, white, unremarkable. More shack than house, really. What _was_ remarkable about it was it’s construction. Solid concrete save for the thick metal door and roof. It looked oddly out of place for such a tranquil sort of community.

The home on the left must belong to the merc and his son. Two stories, like Ella’s, but green with a bright blue door. It had a widow’s walk at its highest peak and he chuckled a bit at the idea of its sniper inhabitant walking it, on the lookout for ghoul-whales or whatever silly tall tales wastelanders told these days.

There was a small mailbox declaring the little yellow house as belonging to ‘the Bradley’s’ and Arthur jogged up the wooden steps that led from the path to Ella’s front door. Finding no doorbell, he knocked politely and waited.

A few moments passed and then her Mister Handy opened the door, “Good morning, sir! How may I help you?”

Instinct and countless engagements against mad robots demanded he bring his rifle up, but he shook it off. “Ah, yes, hello. I was looking for General Bradley.”

The center eye swiveled up and its aperture widened a bit. “I do beg your pardon, but I believe Mum is currently in the workshop, sir. Might I take a message?”

“Oh, no. That’s fine. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome, sir. Good day.”

It shut the door firmly and Arthur grumbled a bit. Of course it wouldn’t be as easy as walking up and having her answer the door. He headed back down the stairs and cut through the side yard, heading for the bright red barn that sat about five hundred yards further into the island’s interior.

There were two large main doors, of course, but a small side door was cracked open a bit and he slipped through. Bright light spilled out from further inside and he wandered through what must have been a sort of supply shed for the rest of the building, traditional farming tools sharing space with gleaming electronics and spools of cable. He stopped just inside the doorway that led into the main workspace and grinned to himself when he heard Ella’s soft cursing.

She was sitting on a stool, bent over some kind of contraption that was clearly giving her fits. The goggles she wore protected her eyes from the sparks and light thrown off from her acetylene torch and an almost unending stream of expletives fell from her lips as she worked. Next to her stood what had probably originally been an assaultron that someone had clearly modified multiple times.

Ella finally switched the torch off and blew a little on the quickly cooling metal, shoving her goggles up off her dirty face and squinting at whatever work she’d done before nodding to herself and tossing the torch aside.

She turned the piece in her hands and Arthur finally realized it was the head of the robot standing next to her. He watched as she carefully set it back into place, pressing down until it’s magnetic fasteners engaged and snapped it back into position. She then pressed a button cleverly hidden in the bot’s ‘jaw’ and sat back, waiting patiently as it booted back up.

A few seconds passed and then the strangely lensed head swiveled toward her. “All systems operational, ma’am.”

“How’s your sensor array, Ada? Can you connect to the island’s mainframe?”

“I will check.” Her processors whirred for a moment. “Yes, connection reestablished.”

“Fantastic. Would you run a quick diagnostic for me? Check for any abnormalities caused by the transport.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A few seconds passed and her head tilted slightly. “There is data missing.”

Ella frowned, “What data?”

“Safety protocols regarding inclimate weather and the CSTF cipher program.”

She sighed, “Alright, well...you can download the protocols from the mainframe, but I’ll have to put in a call to Deacon and tell him to get a another copy of the program from Tinker.”

“Yes, ma’am. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“No, no need. We should have realized the electromagnetic pulse would do a number on all your bits. I really wish you’d reconsider participating in the experiment at all, Ada.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, you yourself said it was my decision.”

“I know. I know I did.” A look of concern crossed her face. “I just worry you’ll get so hurt I won’t be able to fix it is all.”

“I am happy to help, ma’am.”

“I know.”

“Ma’am?”

Ella tossed the goggles alongside the torch. “Yes, Ada?”

The green light atop a strange antenna on her head switched over from green to yellow. “My sensors indicate someone is standing just outside this room. To the north. I do not recognize their bio-signature.”

Her head immediately turned toward the doorway Arthur was standing just inside of. “Hello? Can I help you?”

He walked in, hands up to show he wasn’t armed and grinned at her confused expression.

She narrowed her eyes at a bit. “Are you a courier?”

Arthur chuckled, “What I _am_ is very good at camouflage.”

A wide smile broke over her face. “Arthur! Is that you?”

He finally dropped his hands. “It is.”

“I didn’t even recognize you.”

“Isn’t that the entire point?”

She laughed and turned to Ada, who’s light still glowed yellow. “It’s alright, Ada. This is my friend, Arthur. He’s a guest.”

The light immediately clicked back to green and the assaultron headed for the main doors. “Acknowledged, ma’am. I will add his profile to the mainframe.”

“Thanks, Ada.” They watched her go and Ella finally hopped off her stool and walked around him, taking in his costume from every angle. “Now, _this_ is a disguise. I’m impressed! A few more covert ops and you could almost give Deaks a run for his money.”

He finally removed the mask and pushed his hair back into place. “Thank you for the compliment, Ella, but that is an accomplishment I have absolutely no interest in achieving.”

She grinned up at him, “You just missed Thanksgiving, you know.”

“Thanksgiving?”

“Hmm...yeah, don’t worry about it. Come on, let me show you around!” She headed out and he followed her back to her home. They entered through the backdoor and she stopped suddenly enough that he almost ran into her.

“Hang on, this is the muck room. I need to get these coveralls off.” His eyes momentarily went wide as she shimmied out of the dirty jumpsuit but he managed to recover when he realized she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans underneath. “Codsworth’ll kill me if I track grease all over the place.”

Arthur watched her shuck off her dirty sneakers and wisely decided to set his bag and rifle by the back door as well. “Of course.”

Clothes managed, she continued on into her kitchen, washing up quickly at the sink and even remembering to wipe her face off to his amusement.

He followed behind, taking in the clean tile floor, sturdy little formica dining table and the reclaimed appliances. They’d all been stripped down and polished to a bright shine and it felt oddly familiar. Almost the same gunmetal grey of the Prydwen.

She waved her hand around, “Well, this is the kitchen, of course. It’s where the magic happens.” Her grin was infectious as she swept past him and he smiled back at her. “Through there is the bathroom.” She pointed down a short hallway. “My room is on the ground floor as well, but you don’t want to see that. It’s boring. This is the living room, of course, and upstairs is Shaun’s bedroom and...well, it was meant to be a play area, but it's sort of slowly turning into a machinist’s shop.”

He liked the tasteful braided rugs on the wooden plank floors and the overall feel of comfort her home inspired and smiled at her. “It’s lovely.”

“Thanks.” She motioned to an reupholstered, overstuffed chair near the hearth. “Have a seat by the fire. I’m sure you’re cold after that hike.”

Arthur sat and was surprised at how comfortable it actually was. “It wasn’t so bad. I enjoyed it, really.”

Ella pulled a thick, oversized button-down sweater off a hook near the front door and shrugged into it. “Which way did you take?”

“South.”

“Ah. That’s a good way.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “Would you like anything? Coffee or tea? I have Nuka, too.”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

He watched her go and then resumed his study of her home. There was an entire wall of photographs to his left. Most were clearly new, small snapshots of her friends and the dog, of course. He even spied one of Danse and smiled at the sight of the paladin assisting some random settler with raising a barn wall.

A few of the pictures though were larger, in faded color. Pre-war. He listened carefully, figured she was still at least five minutes out with the coffee and stood quietly, moving closer to the wall of memories.

Only three of her pictures had survived the bombs, it seemed. In one, a young, fresh-faced Ella stood in a strangely somber black gown and hat next to a couple who had to be her parents. Her father was almost as short as she was, same bright eyes, portly with the kind of middle softness that only men who spent their entire careers sitting down could achieve. Her mother, on the other hand, was taller and more darkly complected than both her husband and child. Classically beautiful in a way that reminded him of a book of Old World paintings he’d seen once. She exuded grace and sophistication; her face the more refined blueprint for her daughter’s.

They were completely mismatched and utterly perfect as the parents of an unpredictable force of nature like Ella.

Another photo must have been from her wedding day. A beautiful vision of Ella in white, exchanging vows with a tall, serious looking fellow in a dark blue, full dress uniform. He couldn’t see much of her husband’s face from the angle apart from the noble profile, but the way Ella worshipfully stared up at him with wonder and love was clear as a bell. A fairytale happily ever after made real. He felt his chest become uncomfortably tight and realized he’d never, ever had someone look at him like that. He wondered if he ever would.

The last picture was of a small, wrinkly newborn who was, if his expression were any indication, not happy about having his picture taken. Wrapped in a white blanket with a blue cap on his head, there was a piece of paper above him. It was grainy and Arthur had to squint a little to make out the words.

_Shaun Nathaniel Bradley 7lbs 10oz. DOB July 2nd, 2077 4:42am Mother: Elinor Luciana Bradley, Father: Nathaniel Nelson Bradley_

Her baby. Arthur smiled and thought he could possibly see some family resemblance in the squalling infant. Surely he’d inherited his mother’s temper, anyway.

He was just settled back in his seat when Codsworth floated down from upstairs and paused on the landing, it’s circular saw attachment buzzing to life as he waved it menacingly towards Arthur.

“Elder Maxson, sir! I do apologize, but Elder or not, you _will_ have to wait for Miss Ella outside, thank you.”

“It’s alright, honey! I invited him in!” Ella’s voice rang out from the kitchen and Arthur finally remembered how to breathe.

“Oh! Oh, _my!”_ The saw arm immediately dropped back into its neutral position. “Goodness, sir, please allow me to extend my most humble apologies! I had no idea you were our guest!”

He nodded in acknowledgement and the Mister Handy floated into the kitchen.

“Miss Ella, what _are_ you doing?”

“I’m making coffee, Codsworth.”

“You should have called for me, mum, I would have been happy to assist!”

“You were busy.” She finally appeared in the doorway with a tray and gave Arthur a resigned kind of look. “Thanks anyway.”

“I’ll just go tidy up the workshop, shall I?”

Ella set the tray on the coffee table and nodded, “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.” They heard the door close behind him while she poured Arthur a cup of black coffee, passing it over and grimacing a little. “Sorry about that. He’s...protective.”

He gratefully accepted the steaming hot mug and nodded, “It’s quite alright. I’m glad you have the extra security.”

She added cream to her own mug and leaned back a bit in her own chair. “It does give one peace of mind.”

There were little cookies and muffins of some sort on the tray, too. He waited until Ella chose one to nibble on before taking a cookie for himself. It was soft, sweet and spiced in a way that reminded him of Dandy Boy apples.

She noticed his thoughtful face as he chewed and grinned, “First time having oatmeal cookies, huh?”

He swallowed before answering, “Is that what they are?”

“M’hmm. We use chopped Dandy Boy apples instead of raisins like in the old days, but yup. How are they?”

“Wonderful. Did you make them?”

“Shaun and I did, yes.”

He smiled at her, “Then that explains it. Everything you make seems to be delicious.” Arthur finished the cookie and washed it down with his coffee. “Make sure Cade doesn’t find out about them. He’s liable to run away with you.”

Ella laughed, “Maybe I’d let him. It’s hard to find a man who’s so easy to please. So what brings you out all this way?”

“Oh, I...well, I assumed I had an open invitation so--”

“You did! I just wasn’t sure if there were some business for us to discuss or anything.”

“Ah, well, no...no, not really. I just…”, he trailed off and stared at his boots, unable to come up with an actual plausible reason for visiting that didn’t sound silly.

She leaned forward, her fingertips just barely brushing his knee and gave him a kind smile when he looked up confused. “Hey, it’s fine. You don’t need a reason to see a friend beyond wanting to, okay?”

Arthur was momentarily taken off guard by the compassion in her eyes and just nodded while his brain floundered around like it tended to do in these simple moments of innocent contact.

Ella leaned back, curling her legs up underneath her in the cozy chair. “Speaking of friends, how’s Danse?”

Released from his moment of temporary awkwardness, he finally found his voice. “Danse is fine. He’s at the Castle today. I think he’s hoping to run into Miss Cait.”

Her eyes twinkled, “I bet he is...I really love the whole idea of them together, don’t you?”

He shrugged, “I like that he’s happy when he talks about her...he seems to genuinely care for the girl, which is new for him.”

She seemed surprised, “Really? Goodness, with a face like that, I would have thought he’d be quite the heartthrob in the Brotherhood. He certainly would have been in my time.”

“Oh, well...Danse rose through the ranks very quickly. It’s one thing for knights to have romantic relationships with other knights and the like, but as a paladin, it’s difficult for him to indulge in things like that. What with the rank and all. Any actual relationship he enters into has to be documented and approved by the appropriate channels to make sure it doesn’t cause any unrest among our officers. That type of thing. You understand.”

“No, not really.” Her head tilted, “Are you saying Danse is expected to only date other paladins?”

“Well, no, not _expected._ It’s just...there’s only a handful of officers on the ship of equal or greater rank to him and if he were to actually _date_ a subordinate, it could get...messy.” He shook his head, “Which is a bad idea overall, but an especially terrible one when we’re all confined to such a small area.”

“But he’s not...inexperienced with women, is he?”

He almost laughed out loud. “No, quite the opposite. I’m sure he’ll make her very happy in that respect.”

Her eyebrows drew together, “No, that’s not...oh, dear.” She stared off into space for a moment and he could practically see the gears turning in her head. “Cait is...delicate in matters of the heart, I...I’d assumed Danse was better acquainted with romance than with just...the physical act.”

Arthur waved off her concerns. He couldn’t imagine Danse being careless with anyone’s heart, but _certainly_ not with the woman who’d captured his. “It’ll be fine. Danse has exceptional perception when it comes to other people. I’m sure he’ll take great care to be a perfect gentleman with Miss Cait.”

She nibbled on her thumbnail worryingly for a moment. “I hope you’re right.” Her attention turned back to him. “So you’re in the same boat, I presume?”

“What boat?”

“You became Elder at sixteen. Are you only supposed to date other Elders?”

He laughed, “No, of course not.” The next closest elder he knew of was thousands of miles away and ancient.

“So you’ve dated then?”

“Ah...well, no, not really.” Discussing this subject while being faced with those clever eyes was incredibly uncomfortable for some reason and he shifted in his chair a bit. “I’ve had...companionship, of course, but an actual relationship would, in all honesty, cause chaos among our ranks. So, I...voluntarily abstain from that aspect of human contact.”

Her eyes went just a bit wide and she blinked at him owlishly. “My goodness, what a dry way to say something so tragic.”

He frowned, “It’s not _tragic.”_

“It is a bit. You’re a young man, Arthur. You should be falling in love every week and getting lost in romance and epic affairs. That’s what your youth is _for,_ isn’t it? You sound like some old hermit the way you talk.”

“Adventures of that nature are unbecoming of an elder.”

She shook her head, “At what age do most people become elders though?”

“Typically around forty.”

“Forty...and you got drafted into it at sixteen. Lord almighty.”

He huffed, “I wasn’t drafted.”

“So they asked you? The Western Elders _asked you_ if you’d like to become High Elder?”

Arthur still remembered the cheering that had erupted throughout the Citadel at the news that he’d been appointed Elder. It had reached him even before the promotion had been properly printed out and delivered to his quarters. “Well...no, but--”

“So a bunch of old men three thousand miles away just up and decided to sacrifice a sixteen year old boy’s life for the cause? That sounds a hell of a lot like the draft from what I remember.”

His initial instinct was to demand an apology on behalf of his fellow elders, but he was in her home, on her island, after all. His face went blank as he glared at her. “My ascension was necessary to the survival of the Eastern chapter. I was humbled and honored to be granted the title so early.”

“You were a _child,_ Arthur. They never should have asked that of you in the first place.”

They needed to get off this subject before he said something he regretted. “Be that as it may, I am a man now and I am beholden to my soldiers. Having romantic entanglements with my crew would do nothing but sow discord and jealousy. I will not do it.” She opened her mouth to argue and he held up his hand. “In any case, I am a Maxson. Any woman I pursue will be put under the scrutiny of the entire Brotherhood as a possible candidate for the next Lady Maxson and I am not so cruel as to inflict that upon any of my compatriots until I am sure I have found the right person.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “The Lady Maxson? That’s a real thing? Like First Lady?”

“Yes, it is.”

“You know, the more I find out how the Brotherhood works, the less I like it.”

He’d felt exactly the same once upon a time. “It is what it is.”

She sighed but let it drop and glanced at a sunburst clock hanging on the wall. “We have about an hour before lunch. Want to visit the greenhouse? You came all this way, after all...seems a pity to spend the entirety of your first visit with us arguing in my living room.” Her nose wrinkled and he chuckled.

“I’d love to.”

They headed back out after Ella slipped her dirty sneakers back on, past the workshop and over a small rise. There was a sloping valley of sorts that spread out before them, almost like some giant hand of time and nature had scooped out a shallow bowl. A three story structure stood almost smack in the middle, the top two floors made from sturdy glass bricks. They were too thick to properly look through, but blurry shades of green still shone through. The Spectacle Island experimental greenhouse and research facility.

Arthur pointed at the glass, “Awfully thick for a greenhouse.”

Ella looked back over her shoulder and grinned, “It’s special glass. There’s a fine mesh in it called ballistic weave. Makes the entire structure nearly impervious to physical damage. There’s also a unique type of lead mixed into it to dampen the radiation from storms.”

“And it still lets in UV rays?”

“Yes, the lead plating is actually pulverized until its a super fine powder and then layered in a staggered kind of way in the glass so light can still pass through.”

“Remarkable.”

“Thanks. The top boys in our engineering corps, Sturges and Tinker, came up with it. I can send the schematics to Ingram, if you want.”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

The ground level was solid, impenetrable concrete with a large metallic door. A small touchpad and screen was embedded in the wall just to the right of it and Ella pressed her hand against the plate. The screen flickered to life and after a few moments, her picture came up and a robotic voice spoke to them.

“Welcome, General Bradley.”

The door screeched to life and Arthur watched with fascination as the metal swirled apart. He’d seen similar door designs in old world science facilities and he was amazed Ella had managed to recreate one here.

Once opened, they stepped into some kind of clean room. The walls were still concerte, but polished this time, as was the floor beneath their feet. As soon as the outer door sealed behind them, fine mist rained down over them and he squinted irritably at the sprayers.

“Oh, sorry. I should have said something. Everything has to be decontaminated before it comes inside, even us.”

“At least it smells pleasant.”

“It’s the citric acid in it.”

The spray only went on for a few seconds before warm air blew them dry and the inner door slid open, almost blinding Arthur with how bright the facility was beyond.

Solid white walls and an endless, sloping hallway greeted them. He followed Ella as she entered and abruptly turned left to a set of stairs that would lead them into the greenhouse itself.

He frowned back at the main hall. “Where does that lead?”

“Hmm?” She paused on the stairs and looked where he was pointing. “Ah, well...This is the _entrance_ to the research facility.”

“Just the entrance?”

“Yes.”

“It’s all underground, then.”

She nodded, “Yes, it is. Safer that way.”

“It must be enormous. How on earth did you excavate all that?”

Her eyes slid away from his and she turned back, heading on up the stairs. “Hard work and sweat. Naturally.”

Arthur frowned at her back. He was fairly certain she’d just outright lied to him. She’d had that evasive look to her like when they’d first asked about the Institute’s destruction. Why? What was she trying to hide?

They came to another door, this one heavy steel with a simple keypad for a lock and she punched in a code that had it sliding open. The wonderful scent of healthy plants and rich earth wafted out from the sunlit space and she breathed deep as they entered.

“Isn’t that heaven? I love how the greenhouses smell.”

He murmured an agreement and looked around. Busy figures in white coats drifted among the plants here, writing down data and carefully tending their biologic miracles.

And certainly miracles they were.

Cheerful flowers seemed to take up the bulk of the first floor and he was astonished at the variety. Some he recognized as refined versions of wasteland wild flowers, but others he only knew because Quinlan was something of a book hoarder and had one in his collection called _The Hundred Best Flowers._ It contained carefully painted illustrations of plants Arthur had never dreamed he’d see in person.

Ella smiled proudly at the stunned look on his face. “Aren’t they wonderful? We’ve got lilacs and daffodils, roses and daisies...the hard part, of course, is pollination. We do everything by hand for now, but there’s two teams working on that. Our bio-science crew is trying to recreate a version of the wild American honey bee that’s radiation proof, and until that gets realized, our micro-robotics team is busy creating what they call “Botterflies”. It’s a little robotic butterfly...I told them the name is _terrible_ but they insisted. They’re still in the experimental stages, but I’m told they’ll be ready for field testing by spring.”

He felt completely overwhelmed by the beauty around him and could only get out one word. “How?”

She guided them through the rows, fingers occasionally reaching out to brush a soft petal. “Well...back in my day, there were these things called Seed Vaults. See, some people could see where we were headed, and they wanted to make sure things were preserved. The most famous one was somewhere in Europe, but CIT had one, too. Mostly native plants, but some exotics, too.” She paused and gave him a half smile, “Orchids are proving _quite_ difficult to grow in wasteland conditions, which doesn’t surprise me one bit. I could barely grow them two hundred years ago when we still had things like MiracleGro on hand. Anyway, the BioScience division in the Institute had access to the seeds and had been using them for years for their DNA and growing their own food, of course. When we took it, I made sure we took as much with us as we could before we set the charges.”

“So...these are actual old world flowers, then?”

“Yes.”

“It’s...very impressive, but why focus your efforts on this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Flowers you can only grow under very specific circumstances aren’t going to be very helpful to the Commonwealth, are they?”

“Oh, oh, no. Well...okay, yes, our first accelerated generation _was_ purely old world. However, most of these have actually been spliced with wasteland plants to be hardier and rad proof.” She came to a soft purple rose of some sort and cupped her hand around it. It glowed with an eerie kind of blue light. “See? This is an old world Sterling Silver rose spliced with a touch of fever blossom DNA. Isn’t it beautiful?”

He moved closer to inspect it carefully nodded. “Yes, it’s lovely, but what’s it purpose?”

She looked up at him and smiled, “To be beautiful, of course.”

Arthur stared down at her and her bright eyes. The way she held the flower made it seem like she had a ball of light in her hands and he was reminded again of the little fairy she sometimes resembled.

He then realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes, stepping back and resuming the three feet of distance he preferred to keep around himself at all times. “What’s on the second floor?”

Ella grinned, “That’s the best place on the whole island.” She grabbed his hand and darted off, tugging him along in her wake, and jogging up the stairs to the top most floor of the greenhouse. Healthy green plants greeted them. Not flowers this time, but fruit and vegetables hung like jewels from many of the specimens.

“You’re actually growing food!”

She laughed, “Well, of course we’re growing food. Sheesh.” She finally relinquished his hand and pulled a bright red orb off a nearby stalk, tossing it to him.

It was small. Three could have fit in his hand easily and he rubbed his thumb across its surface, surprised at the tiny bumps he could feel but not see. “What’s this?”

“Cherry tomato. Go on, taste it.”

He felt a little trepidation at eating a foreign plant without having it tested by his own men first, but popped in his mouth all the same. It made a satisfying kind of pop between his teeth and he blinked in surprise a little as it filled his mouth with an savory-sweet juice.

Ella grinned, “Pretty good, right?”

Arthur swallowed and nodded, “Yes, it’s very good. Much better than a tato.”

She made a face, “Oh, God, don’t even get me started on those abominations.”

He laughed, “I could have sworn Danse mentioned a tato sauce on that famous meatloaf of yours.”

“I might have fudged that a bit...all of this stuff is technically classified, you know.”

He glanced around at all the shining produce around them, “Is this all spliced, too?”

“Well, no, not yet. Accelerated growth on food is kind of difficult. This is still the original generation. But we’ll have seeds and sprouts ready for planting out on the island by May and if all goes well, we can roll most of it out across all of our settlements by the following year.”

“So what do you do with this produce?”

“Every family on the island gets a box of food once a month. That way we don’t waste anything.”

“Smart.”

“Thanks.” She laughed a little. “Wow, I’m surprisingly proud of myself right now.”

“You have every right to be. This is some impressive work.”

Ella shook her head, “No, I mean, I’m proud because you’re impressed. I didn’t think it would matter to me as much as it does that you approve of all this.”

He liked seeing her flustered. It was a rare turn of events having her awed by his presence for a change. “Well, I _am_ the Elder.”

“Pfft. What does _that_ matter?”

Arthur frowned in confusion but she was already headed back to the stairs.

“Come on, it’s almost time for lunch. Shaun walks Duncan home from class everyday. You can meet them both.”

He snuck another of the tasty tomatoes in his mouth and trotted after her back to her home. All in all, thus far this was the best day he’d had since he could remember. The freedom of not having the weight of his station pressing down on him constantly, getting to be out in nature and spending time with one of his favorite people was quite invigorating.

Ella had just changed out of her shoes for a pair of house slippers when the front door opened with a bang.

“Mom! I’m home!”

The effervescent smile that came over her face was dazzling. “Hey, there’s my guy! We have a visitor today, honey.”

“Who’s it?” A boy, tall and lanky with a freckled complexion and hazel-blue eyes met them in the kitchen. He had the same impish smile as his mother and a wild, wind-tousled mess of black hair. His eyes lit up when they landed on Arthur. “Hi! I’m Shaun.”

He smiled and moved to shake his hand, “Hello, Shaun. I’m Arthur Maxson.”

The boy’s grip went from impressive to slack and his mouth dropped open. “You’re Elder Maxson. Of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Arthur glanced at Ella for an idea of how to proceed, but she was busy collecting leftovers from the refrigerator. “Ah, yes, that’s right.”

“Wow. _Wow!”_ His head swiveled toward the living room. “Dunk! Come and see who’s here!” His hand was now holding onto Arthur’s for dear life and he all but dragged him along into the doorway. “It’s _the_ Elder Maxson!”

The small child who’d been so thrilled to help bathe Dogmeat from Arthur’s first visit to the Castle was not quite so thrilled to meet him and barely looked up from reading his comic on the couch. “Hey.”

Shaun immediately made a face at him, “Duncan! Come on! Aren’t you gassed? It’s _the Elder Maxson!”_

“Arthur is fine.”

“Boys! Lunch is ready.”

Shaun dragged him back into the kitchen and only let go of his hand once they were both seated at the table. He bounced in his seat, but politely waited for Duncan and Ella to join them before he spoke again.

“I can’t believe you’re here!”

Ella chuckled quietly and put a napkin in his lap after tying one around Duncan’s neck. “Shaun, honey, eat your food.”

“Okay.” He ate a few bites of the cold roast, still bouncing slightly before he leaned over towards his mother and whispering loudly. “It’s _the Elder Maxson!”_

She leaned in towards him and whispered back, “I know!”

“I can’t believe he’s really here!”

“I know! It’s pretty great!” Shaun went back to inhaling his food in that way only growing boys can and Ella smiled at Arthur’s confused expression. “Uncle Danse told _someone_ a lot of stories about you when he visited.”

He wasn’t sure if that was embarrassing or not. “Ah.”

Shaun stuffed half  a roll in his mouth. “Yeah! You killed a deathclaw when you were just _thirteen!_ I’m almost thirteen--”

Ella sighed, “You’re ten, honey.”

“--but Mom won’t let me shoot _anything_ yet.”

Duncan finally looked up from his own plate to fix Arthur with that same piercing stare his father had. “My daddy says you’re a big poop bag.”

He frowned, “Excuse me?”

“Duncan!” Ella looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. “You apologize this instant!”

“Why? Daddy said it, not me.”

“I really am gonna kill him someday.”

Shaun grinned at her, “You always say that, but it’s never gonna happen.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, “He’s lucky Duncan’s so cute or maybe I really would.”

The tiny terror was still staring at Arthur. “So? Are you?”

He’d been trying to remember if he’d ever been so impertinent as a child and looked up, “What?”

“Are you a poop bag?”

“Ah…”, he looked to Ella for assistance, but she just rolled her eyes. “No.”

“You callin’ my daddy a liar?”

“Okay! You boys can have your milk and cookies in the living room, alright? How’s that sound? Codsworth has Howdy Doody all warmed up for you in the holo player.”

Their attention was immediately diverted and Shaun grabbed their glasses while Duncan shoved two cookies into his mouth and then grabbed as many as he could carry from the plate on the counter.

“Thanks, Mom!”

Duncan mumbled something that might have resembled a thanks if it hadn’t been filtered through a mouthful of cookie and they bolted out.

Ella sat contemplating the void for a moment and sighed. “I’m sorry for that.”

He still felt a little overwhelmed by all the frenetic energy and shook his head. “It’s fine...what’s a poop bag?”

She laughed a little and dropped her voice low so it wouldn’t carry into the next room, “I think he meant a sack of shit. Mac doesn’t use adult language around his son, so he gets a little creative with things.”

He admired the man’s restraint around his child, but he could not for the life of him imagine why the mercenary had such a problem with him to begin with. “What _is_ MacCready’s issue with me, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Ella stood and started clearing their plates, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I don’t even know the man but he’s been borderline hostile in person and now rude through his son as well.”

She stood at the sink and frowned at him, “You...really don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“You met him. Once. Back in the Capital Wasteland.”

“When was this?”

“I dunno...a while ago. You had just been made Elder.”

“Ah...well...that was a busy time for me.”

She smirked, “Yeah, I bet. Well...according to Mac, he’d just graduated from Lamplight and he came to the Citadel. Wanted to join up...but someone told him anyone who joined who was under eighteen had to start as a squire and he didn’t want to do that since he’d been Mayor and all since he was ten.”

A fuzzy memory was starting to reassert himself. “I remember him. He said that if I could be Elder, he could be a knight.”

“Yup.”

“And then…”, he thought hard. “I had him removed from the Citadel for causing a disturbance.”

“And beaten.”

He snapped to attention and stared at her, “What?”

“He was escorted off the grounds and beaten.”

“I did _not_ order that.”

“Well, it happened anyway, and he thought you did, so…” She shrugged.

Outcasts. Had to be. They’d been almost frenzied in their jubilation over him being declared High Elder and he’d often wondered if some of them who’d returned west hadn’t been the progenitors of the cults that had sprung up in his name. He couldn’t remember who exactly had dragged the angry, loud wastelander from their base, but they absolutely would have taken the disrespect he’d shown their new elder personally.

“Please pass my apologies along to him. I truly had no idea that happened and if I had, I’d have had those men severely punished.”

“Okay. I’ll let him know.” She gave him a considering look, “I know Mac isn’t everyone's cup of tea, but you really missed an opportunity with him. I’ve never seen a man as capable with a rifle as he is, and I’m including all the soldiers who served under Nate. I’ve seen him shoot the eye out of a super mutant from over a thousand yards _without_ a tripod. He’s amazing. Not even Deacon can match him.”

“I’m sure he’s quite capable. From my recollection, it was his attitude that was unsuitable for a member of the Brotherhood.”

She shrugged again, “Your loss is our gain, I guess. I like my men feisty.”

“I wasn’t aware he was a Minuteman.”

“He isn’t.”

“Oh...oh, I see.”

Her head tilted, “See what?”

“You’re...involved with him.”

She smirked at him, “I’m not _involved_ with Mac. We’re friends.”

“Oh.”

“You know there’s more to relationships than just subordinate or lover, right?”

He felt heat rush into his face and glowered at her, “Yes.”

“M’hmm.” She checked the clock again and whistled sharply. “Alright, kiddos! Shaun, drop Duncan off and go to school, please!”

Shaun called back while they thumped around getting ready. “Okay! See you, Mom!”

“Don’t forget your appointment, honey!”

He poked his head in and scowled, “Aw, Mom…”

“Don’t ‘aw, mom’ me. It’s Friday. She’s expecting you.”

He shot her a sulky look but retreated. “Alright, alright.”

“Have a good day! I love you!”

His answering ‘love you’ was grumbled as the boys banged out the door.

Ella grinned at Arthur, “He has checkups every Friday at the clinic in town. Hates them.”

“Ah.” Made sense for a boy who’d been born before all the radiation and who’d mostly grown up isolated from it. Probably was far less resistant to its effects than the average child. “Duncan and Shaun aren’t in the same class?”

She shook her head as they moved into the living room and Arthur did his best to stay out of the way as she turned off the old TV and tidied up. “No, the little ones have class before lunch and the big kids go after. Shaun likes being Miss Eve’s assistant though so he walks Duncan home everyday at lunch and then goes back.”

He thought of his own trek across the island and chuckled as he sat down. “Sounds like a lot of walking.”

“Walking’s good for a growing boy.” She brushed the last of the crumbs off the coffee table and took the dirty dishes back to the kitchen before returning to the chair across from his. “Anyway, he likes it. He was kept...confined in the Institute. More so than most. He enjoys the freedom and Dogmeat never leaves his side when he’s outdoors, so, he’s safe.”

He didn’t like the idea of her child being kept caged underground like that. “Why did they take him in the first place? Did you ever figure that out?”

She hugged her sweater a little tighter around herself and stared into the fire. “They um...well, they needed a source of unmutated human DNA for their experiments. Shaun was the source.”

He stared at her in shock, first at her statement and then at the all-consuming fury that filled him. “Good God, Ella. That’s...absolutely horrific. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, “It’s alright. The Institute is gone now. They can’t hurt him anymore.”

“Still...I can’t imagine how angry it must have made you feel to finally get to your son and you find out he’s just someone’s lab rat. That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it...it was pretty bad.” Her eyes were bleak, reflecting the flames and so far past enraged that Arthur couldn’t even find a word for it. She blinked hard and shook her head as if to banish those memories back, turning to smile at him. “So, are you staying for dinner?”

They spent a quiet afternoon together, playing chess and then, when Arthur lost for the third time against her, switching over to poker. Ella was fairly good at it, too, but since it was more a game about tells, he was able to hold his own.

Codsworth occasionally puttered through while attending whatever duties he saw to daily, offering beverages and food every time, no matter how often they declined.

He had no idea how she put up with the floating butler all day everyday, but her patience was impressive.

The longer he spent in her company, the more relaxed he felt. Even when she was teasing him or poking at his fundamental principles in ways that would have made him furious with anyone else, instead he just felt...calm. Happy. There was no one here hovering over his shoulder, aside from Codsworth, of course. No one standing at attention, expectantly waiting for him to give a command.

For the first time since Sarah Lyon’s passing, he felt like someone was finally able to see him as himself again. Not Elder Maxson, not even Arthur Maxson, Brotherhood soldier. Just...Arthur.

He tried his hardest to sear every second of the day into his mind. Who knew when he’d get another experience to feel as tranquil and... _normal_ again.

In fact, that was the only thing bothering him. This moment, this day, would end. He’d go back to the ship, Ella would remain here in her bubble of domesticity and life would go on. He hated that. He wanted this feeling all the time, or at least all the time he wasn’t actively on duty.

Shouldn’t this sort of peace be the very thing he looked forward to at the end of every campaign?

He watched Ella as she frowned thoughtfully at her cards. She worried her lower lip a little between her teeth and he smiled. She was actually terrible at schooling her face. He hoped she never attempted this game with anyone who was genuinely after her caps or she was liable to find herself homeless.

But, spotty card skills aside, she was altogether wonderful in his eyes. Strong and capable, both thoughtful and fearsome about protecting her son and her people. Surely no one had a better education or upbringing. Capable in battle and diplomacy.

She was beautiful, too. No one could deny that.

There was that unpredictable wild streak in her, too, though. He could still clearly recall the terror he’d felt when she deliberately let herself fall from the Prydwen just so he’d have a real reason to leave it. Or the shock he’d first felt when he learned she’d freed the synths instead of having them destroyed like she ought, like any rational person would have. He’d hated her insubordination at first, but now every time she mouthed off or outright refused to obey an order made his heart race somehow. It absolutely shouldn’t, but it did.

All that chaos could be managed, couldn’t it? If the tradeoff was having someone lovely and warm and _challenging_ to come home to?

Ella finally noticed him staring and glanced up, grinning cheekily to cover the uncertainty that had shown through before. He grinned back and the game continued, although his mind was on a much more serious, different kind of game from that point on.

Shaun returned shortly after sunset, grumbling a bit about tests. He perked up considerably though when he saw Arthur was still there and immediately shoved him upstairs to show off all his inventions and ideas. He’d even begun sketching out blueprints for a new kind of power armor and Arthur was impressed at how quickly he seemed to have grasped the basic concepts.

Dinner was quieter than lunch had been. Shaun’s energy was quickly petering out and Arthur was actually able to occasionally get a word in edgewise with him. He liked sitting at the table with Ella and her son. It felt right. Even before, when the little menace from next door had been there, it had still felt right. Codsworth cleared the table and she went off to help supervise Shaun’s bedtime routine. He smiled from the living room at her fussing over proper face washing technique and her slow counting while he brushed his teeth.

She was an ideal mother as far as he could see. Caring and gentle, affectionate and firm in equal measure. He had no doubt Shaun would grow up to be an amazing man. Someone who would make a difference in the world no matter what path he eventually chose.

And the options really were limitless for him. Danse had described him as ‘very intelligent’ but that didn’t even come close to the creative genius he clearly was, and for all his bouncing, unfocused energy, there was something about the boy, something way down deep, that told Arthur he would grow into a natural leader. The way he volunteered to assist his teacher and how he faithfully shepherded MacCready’s son, for example. How many ten year olds did things like that without being told?

Given how bright Ella was and the horrific environment he’d grown up in, he was fairly certain the boy’s genius had been inherited from her. He couldn’t imagine the Institute actually fostering that kind of intellectual aptitude in a lab rat, after all.

Shaun reappeared from the bathroom and waved at him, “Good night, Elder Maxson.”

Arthur smiled at the boy, “Good night, son.”

“I’m real glad you came to visit today!”

“Me, too.”

Ella nudged him along, “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time.” He watched them head up the stairs and then stared at the cheery fire still burning in the hearth. He’d been so certain that Ella would make a terrible Lady Maxson, but now, after spending time in her home, he wasn’t so certain. Certainly she was everything he’d been taught to look for in a potential wife, wasn’t she? There was her troubling love of robots and her attachment to the Commonwealth of course, but…

The sound of her singing brought his thought process to a full and complete stop. A lullaby. Ancient and familiar, it produced a sharp, bittersweet kind of pain in his heart.

“Over the mountain, over the sea, back where my heart is longing to be…”

He softly sang the next line with her, remembering the words as they fell off his tongue. “Oh, let the light that shines on me, shine on the one I love.”

Sarah had sang it for him when he was a child on sleepless nights when the cold, dreary walls of the Citadel had felt like a crushing weight instead of the comfort they were supposed to be. She’d said her mother had sang it for her, and her mother going all the way back. ‘I See The Moon’. That’s what it was called.

It was a sign. It had to be, right? He’d never held any stock in the concept of the divine or ghosts or even the vague Brotherhood valhalla that most of his comrades took solace in, but what else could possibly explain it?

Maybe Ella really was, somehow, the second coming of Sarah Lyons. Or maybe his ancestors had kindly guided the hand of fate enough that they’d been brought together against all odds.

Ella finally came back downstairs, looking especially sweet and angelic to his eyes and smiled at him before glancing at the clock. “Oh, we better get going or you’ll miss the last ferry.” She scrunched up her face, “I’m _still_ having to hear about how annoyed Geoffrey was at having to get up to take Danse back that one time.”

“Of course.” He reluctantly stood and went with her to the mudroom to collect his things and slip back into his coat.

She layered two sweaters and then added an oversized peacoat on top before grabbing a scarf and hat from their pegs. “Do we need to let him know you’re coming or anything? I have a radio.”

He shook his head, “No, I can send a signal directly to his armor once I’m back at the vertibird.”

“Okay.” She waved at Codsworth as they passed him in the kitchen, “Keep on eye on things, honey. I’ll be right back.”

One of his lenses swiveled to watch them go. “Right-o, mum. I will hold down the fort!”

They headed out and down the steps, Dogmeat joining them on the path below. Ella paused to pet him and pointed at the sky, “See what I mean? Too many stars.”

Arthur stared at the sparkling ribbon of the Milky Way and how the ocean was finally calm enough to reflect the starlight and shook his head. “I still don’t see what the problem is. It’s beautiful out here.”

“Well, sure, its beautiful. It just feels wrong is all.” She frowned up at the heavens. “Sometimes this world, this existence, doesn’t feel real to me.”

He couldn’t even begin to imagine all the ways her world had been different when compared to this one, but he knew exactly what being displaced felt like. On impulse, he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “But it is real. This is all we’ve got to work with, so we may as well make the best of it, right?”

She looked up at him and smiled, “Right.” She turned and lead him along the path, one hand still in his and the other tucked in a pocket.

It seemed like the trek back around took far less time than his initial trip out. In no time, the little village was visible, it’s lights twinkling cheerfully in the darkness.

The ferry wasn’t there yet but he could see it a few thousand yards out, bringing the last of the workers home for the evening. Ella only slipped her hand from his after they entered the little covered port and he noticed she made a point of moving a few steps away as well.

Arthur sighed internally and tried, one last time, to make peace with their situation and who they had to be as individuals, but it wasn’t happening. His frustration overwhelmed him finally and he turned, staring down at her until she finally turned to face him.

“What?”

“When you said ‘forgiven and forgotten’ before...did you really mean it?”

She gave him an indulgent, rather fond sort of look. “Of course, I did, Arthur. Please stop worrying about it.”

The ferry was getting closer, he could hear the motor sputtering now. “No, I...what I mean is, do you really never think about...what happened that night?”

Her eyes went wide and then slid away from his, the way they always seemed to do whenever she went evasive. “No, of course I don’t.” She turned back and faced the ocean, eyes glued on the horizon.

His frustration grew at her reaction. “Because I do. I think about it all the time.”

“Arthur, this...you’re being inappropriate.”

It was one of the weakest admonishments she’d ever given him and for some reason it made him furious. “I don’t care.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, “Look, I appreciate that you’re going through some sort of...I dunno, delayed adolescence or something, and I know puppy love--”

“That’s not what this is, Ella.”

“--can be difficult to deal with, but this? Us?” She turned back to him and shook her head, eyes sad and silvery in the darkness. “Won’t happen. _Can’t_ happen, even.”

Arthur stepped closer to her and lowered his voice, “Why not?”

“For a million reasons,” she folded her arms and frowned up at him.

His eyes searched her face and found the way she’d immediately raised defenses very interesting. “Is one of those reasons that you don’t want to?”

She stared hard into his eyes and he immediately knew she was about to lie right to his face. “Yes, it is.”

They stared at each other in brittle silence and eventually he eased a little closer, eyes landing on her mouth. That soft, sweet mouth he’d violated with his own all those weeks ago and hadn’t stopped thinking of since. Her lips parted ever-so-slightly and he leaned down, a hand coming up to cradle her head gently. He could see her eyes slipping closed and felt her breath on him before she abruptly turned her head away.

“Stop.”

He straightened, hand hovering just above her skin. “Ella--”

“Arthur, this is madness. Please stop.”

The pain in her voice cut through him and he stepped back, dropping his hand and nodded. “Of course. I apologize.”

She shook her head and her eyes darted to the ferry. It was barely a hundred yards out at this point and she motioned toward it. “Well...your ride’s here. I’ll see you.” She quickly walked past him, back toward the village.

Arthur watched her go with dark, regretful eyes before slipping his mask back on. “See you.”

Hours later, back aboard the Prydwen after a particularly long, painful vertibird ride with a chatty, clearly satisfied Danse, he finally made it back to his quiet chambers.

Arthur sat at his terminal, staring grimly at the keys for a moment before typing something designed, in large part, to permanently remind him of Ella’s proper place in his life.

 

_Fr: Elder Maxson MX-001E_

_To: Lancer-Captain Kells KS-390LC, Knight-Captain Cade CD-440KC, Proctor Quinlan QN-448PR, Scribe Neriah NR-490SS, Proctor Ingram IG-444PR, Paladin Danse DN-407P_

 

_Attention Senior Command Staff,_

_It gives me great pleasure to announce that Sentinel Bradley is officially being considered for Governorship of the Commonwealth. Her nomination will be sent to the Council of Elders shortly, and if any of you wish to write letters of recommendation for inclusion in the official record, please see that they are forwarded to Proctor Quinlan before our next transmission to the Western chapter is scheduled._

_It is my sincerest belief that Sentinel Bradley is the best and only true candidate for the job and once her position, and the region, is secure, we may resume our efforts at unification and planning of our eventual triumphant return to California. Ad victoriam._

 

He read and reread it, swallowing down the feelings of despair and loss at the idea of heading west and never seeing Ella again, and pressed send.


	6. Article 5 - Duty Above All

The month of December was filled with nothing but paperwork and the usual unending maintenance required by living on a flying warship. Quinlan had, for the briefest of moments, thought he might have gotten a signal from the still MIA recon team dispatched to Chicago, but Arthur knew enough about radio waves to know the small burst of static and possible string of broken Morse code could very well have been interference from the planet Jupiter for all they knew. He was starting to wonder if they should begin plans for the trip out west with the assumption that the recon team had been lost, but for Paladin Danse’s sake, he held off on making the decision official. His friend had once been in that exact situation, after all. He couldn’t very well abandon all hope when Danse was living proof that miracles could, and sometimes did, happen.

He was busy calculating all the possible ways the handful of signals they’d received could be rearranged into something that made sense when the small speaker in Arthur’s private quarters whistled briefly before Kells began to speak.

“Excuse me, Elder Maxson, sir?”

He sighed and set his paperwork aside. Calls from Kells were never good. “Go ahead, Captain.”

“Knight Conner just radioed us. There are two unknown civilians requesting permission to board the Prydwen.”

He frowned at the speaker, “Unknown?”

“Yes, sir. Apparently they won’t give their names. They’re also in possession of two large boxes and refuse to allow anyone but you to inspect them.”

Odd. Too obvious to actually be a trap, wasn’t it? Surely no wastelander was so stupid as to think a plan this poorly thought out would succeed. “Did Knight Conner give a description of the civilians?”

“Yes, sir. One is a man, age unknown, friendly, wearing sunglasses. The other is a boy, approximately ten or twelve. Dark hair, light eyes.”

That sounded an awful lot like Deacon and Shaun, didn’t it? But that was impossible. Why would Ella...no, General Bradley, send her...whatever Deacon really was and her son to the Prydwen? And why not just say who they were?

He tapped his pen thoughtfully. Protocol said he should send someone in his stead. Danse or even Kells, possibly. But if it really was Shaun, he didn’t want the boy going home to his mother and reporting that they’d treated him like some dangerous threat, especially if he were just caught up in one of Deacon’s little schemes.

“Allow them to board. I’ll meet them on the gantry.”

“Sir?” Kells seemed to have thought he’d lost his mind.

“You heard me, Captain.”

“Yes, sir.”

Arthur picked up his coat and whistled sharply at Danse to follow on the way to the command deck. The vertibird was just docking by the time they arrived.

Sure enough, Deacon disembarked and pulled down two wooden crates before helping Shaun off the bird. The boy’s eyes were huge as he took in all the vertibird docks and Deacon had to keep a hand fisted in the back of his sweater so he wouldn’t bound away. They each took a box and made their way over to Arthur and Danse, their escort following close behind.

Deacon grinned, “Hey, it’s Elder Artie himself! Wow! You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

“Sir, these are the civilians from--”

Arthur waved the soldier off, “Yes, thank you, Knight. Please return to your duties.”

He nodded, “Sir.”

They watched him go before Arthur finally turned his attention back to Deacon, “Why didn’t you just give them your name?”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” He shrugged, “Besides, I’m trying to teach Shaun how to maintain opsec, you know. He’s kinda...talkative.” The boy fairly vibrated with excitement and bounced in place next to Deacon. He stared up at him with big, pleading eyes and the man finally relented, releasing his sweater. “Go ahead, kiddo.”

He immediately took two large steps forward, right into their personal bubbles. “Hi, Elder Maxson! Uncle Danse! Your ship is  _ so cool! _ It uses hydrogen to stay up, right? Mom said it did. Isn’t that kinda dangerous, though? Uncle Nick said you should’ve just named it the Hindenburg Two. I asked him what the Hindenburg One was, but he just laughed and wouldn’t tell me. Do you know? What kinda fuel do the vertibirds use? Does everybody in the Brotherhood get a suit of power armor, or just the Knights? How old do you have to be to become a Knight anyway? When are you going to come back and visit us? I bet you’re really busy, huh? Mom said you were. Does the Brotherhood celebrate Christmas? Or something else? Mom said you might celebrate the solstice or something, since you’re all into science. I think the solstice makes more sense anyway. Plus, it’s earlier so you get your presents sooner! Do people--” He finally halted only when Deacon’s hand fell back on his shoulder.

“See? Trying to instill a little discretion here. I’m sure you understand.”

Arthur’s head was fairly spinning from all the rapid fire questions and he nodded. “Yes, quite.” Danse simply smiled and waved a little at Shaun, earning a grin and a wave back.

“Anyway, boss lady had these presents for you and your senior staff and wanted us to deliver them.”

So she  _ had _ sent them. Interesting. “If we’d known you were coming, we would have prepared something.”

He shrugged again, “It was kind of a last minute thing.”

“There was a problem at the--”

“Shaun!” Deacon’s voice was surprisingly sharp for someone who seemed so relaxed all the time.

“Oh! Right. Uh...I mean, yeah, it was a last minute thing.” He tried hard to emulate his escort’s casual stance and only managed to look even more suspicious.

Deacon sighed heavily, “Opsec, kiddo.”

“Sorry, Uncle Deacon.”

“It’s alright. You’ll get there.” He smiled at Arthur. “Anywho! Shaun really wanted to come see your dirigible and so here we are.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes a little. A problem somewhere? Maybe at that strange lab of hers? Or was it a made up problem so she would have a reason to not come here and see him in person? “Well...whatever the circumstances, we’re happy to have you. Please follow me.” He lead them inside and onto the command deck.

Shaun, once no longer in danger of falling hundreds of feet, was released by Deacon and immediately hopped up on one of the couches, staring out the windows at the ruined city. “Wow! We’re so high up!”

Deacon shrugged, “It’s not  _ that _ high...and get your feet off the furniture. Your mom would have a fit.”

“Oh, right...right.” He hopped down and smiled sheepishly at them. “Sorry, Elder Maxson.”

“It’s quite alright. The view  _ is _ something, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” He seemed to finally remember he was holding something and held it out. “Here! This is for you.”

“And your staff.”

“Yeah, and your staff!”

Arthur took the box and smiled at him. “Thank you. May I open it?”

“Yeah!”

He sat down and removed the top, frowning in confusion a little at the contents. Little handpies of some sort wrapped in wax paper. What an odd gift. “What is this, exactly?”

“Empanadas!”

He’d said it with a strange sort of accent and Arthur tried to place it but failed. “Empanadas?”

Deacon shook his head. “No,  _ empanadas.” _

“Empanadas.”

“No, em-puh-naa-duhz.”

“Right. Empanadas.”

He sighed, “Not even close. I told her you’d butcher it.”

Arthur scowled at him for a moment before looking at Shaun and chuckling at the way he hovered over the box. It may be a present for the Brotherhood, but the boy was fairly drooling, clearly hoping to have one. “What are empanadas?”

“They’re a special kind of snack! My abuelita made them for Mom when she was little. These are empanadas colombianas, cause she was from Colombia and all. It’s this whole other country on a whole different continent! They even spoke a different language! Isn’t that neat! Abuelita Sofia was a world famous pianist, too! She played for Kings and Queens and stuff, and once even for the  _ Pope!” _ He finally paused and frowned a little, “I’m not exactly sure what a pope was, but the way Mom says it, he was a pretty big deal back then.”

He blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden flurry of information he’d just been buried in. “Ah...alright. So what’s in them, exactly?”

“Oh! Well, these have potatoes and brahmin and a bunch of fancy spices and stuff. Mom says they used to have pork in them, too, but we don’t have pork nowadays, except Cram.” He made a face, “I don’t like Cram. It’s too salty.”

“Did your mother make them?”

“Yeah! I helped though. So did Codsworth...and Duncan. Uncle Mac, too. We made  _ a lot.” _

He smiled, “They sound delicious. Would you like one?”

“Yeah!” Shaun grabbed one and immediately went to take a huge bite out of it until Deacon poked him sharply in the back. He froze, looking over his shoulder at his uncle’s impassive face and that sheepish look showed back up. “Right...right, sorry. Rude.” Shaun broke it in two and held out one half for Arthur. “Here, we should share it.”

He actually had a moment of sympathy for Deacon and whoever else got charged with teaching this puppy-in-human-form manners and accepted the offering. “Thanks.” He passed the box to Danse before tasting the little lump. The outside was kind of grainy. Cornmeal of some sort. The inside, however, was savory and delicious, full of flavors he’d never experienced before with a spicy kick at the end that made his eyes water a little.

Danse bit into one and almost immediately coughed, turning away and taking a moment to compose himself.

Shaun looked surprised, “Oh! Are they still too spicy? Mom said she toned it way down, since the Brotherhood doesn’t have any spice but salt.”

Deacon snorted a little at that and also turned away, coughing a bit to cover his laughter.

“No, no, they’re fine. Delicious. Please pass our compliments to the chef.”

He smiled, bright and sunny, “Okay! There’s also buñuelos!”

Arthur wasn’t even going to try to pronounce that one. “What’re those?”

Shaun grabbed the other box from Deacon and opened it for him. It was full of small round balls of...something. Smelled divine, whatever it was. “See? They’re little cheese fritters! No spices. I promise.”

He chuckled a little and took one, “Thank you.” It was salty and rich, even cold, and he could easily see himself eating the entire box if duty didn’t demand that he share. “They’re wonderful!”

“Right? Mom makes the best stuff!” He took one and passed it to Danse, who nibbled it cautiously before inhaling the entire thing. “There were supposed to be tamales, too, but we ate them all.”

“Shaun.” Deacon looked over his sunglasses at the boy, who immediately made a face back.

He sighed in defeat, “Okay,  _ I _ ate them all...I couldn’t help it! They were so good!”

Arthur nodded, “Your mother is an excellent cook. I’m sure the temptation was overwhelming.”

“That’s exactly what I said!”

He passed both boxes over to Danse, “Would you make sure everyone gets an equal share?”   


“Yes, Elder.”

“And make doubly sure Cade doesn’t try to sneak extra.”

The paladin laughed and headed for the galley. “Good call, sir. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

He watched Shaun bounce around the deck for a moment, taking in the view from every possible angle. “So your uh...abuelita, she taught your mother to cook?”

“Kinda. Mom says she was always busy touring around and stuff, but they spent a lot of time together whenever she was back home.”

“Ah.”

“Most of the time though it was just her and Pop.”

He thought it was sweet Ella still referred to her parents by the grandparent names they must have chosen, even if their time with the boy had been painfully short. “What’d your pop do?”

“He was an actuary.”

Arthur had never heard that word before and looked at Deacon. “An actuary?”   


“He ran statistics on people.”

That...was also confusing. “For what?”

“Insurance companies.”

Shaun finally tore his eyes off the window, “Yeah! People used to have all kinds of insurance before the war! Car insurance, home insurance, life insurance, health insurance. All kinds!”

He’d heard of that concept, at least. You paid money to a company who held onto it if and until you needed it for some catastrophe. If no such catastrophe occurred, they kept the money. It had always sounded shady to him. “So, what did his statistics do, exactly?”

“Well...like, he would look at the things people did and then tell the company if they were a good investment or not cause they didn’t want to insure people who put themselves in danger all the time.”   


“Oh.”

“Cost-benefit risk analysis.” Deacon finally seemed to take pity on him and explained it properly. “He had tables full of data. Stuff like ‘if someone drives every day, their risk of injury or death increases by this percentage’. He’d calculate the risk so the company could make an informed decision and adjust the price of the insurance accordingly...or refuse to insure the person.”

Shaun nodded along, “Yeah. Like, Mom says there’s no way Pop would sign off on her being insured by his company right now cause being the General is crazy risky.”

“Her father calculated risk? That was his job?”

“Yup.”

Arthur couldn’t help but laugh, “Ironic.”

Deacon grinned, “It kinda is. Guess we all gotta rebel against something, right?”

“Apparently.”

Shaun just looked confused. “Ironic? Mom said his job was just super boring.”

He wasn’t sure how to explain to Ella’s son that his mother seemed to have a long-term relationship with dangerous impulsivity and just shook his head. “Shaun, how would you like a tour?”

“You mean it?” He turned to his escort. “Can we, Uncle Deacon?”

He shrugged, “Sure. Keep your hands in your pockets though.”

“Okay!”

Arthur lead them through the decks, first below to meet Captain Kells, who seemed only moderately annoyed to have to answer approximately ten thousand questions from Shaun. Then they headed up, through the galley into the maintenance bay. The boy’s eyes went huge when he spotted Ingram and he bolted over before Arthur or Deacon could stop him, sliding to a stop just a few inches from the Proctor.

“Hi!”

She jumped a bit and frowned down at him, “Uh...hello?”

“You’re Proctor Ingram, right?”

Her eyes finally found Arthur’s and she waited for his approving nod before answering. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m Shaun! Mom told me all about you! Is it true you’re in charge of the whole Prydwen?”

“Um...well, technically Elder Maxson is in charge of--”

“Yeah, yeah, but you  _ do _ everything, right? You keep it running and stuff, and Mom said you designed a ton of stuff for it!”

“Well...yes, that’s right.”

“I like your armor frame!”

“Uh...thank you.”

“It’s so smart to modify one to get around! Was that your idea?”

“Yes. It was.” His attention was temporarily diverted by the shiny suit of T-51 armor next to them and she looked to Arthur. “Elder? Who is this?”

He smiled, “Bradley’s son.”

“Ah...that explains a lot.” She studied him for a moment. “Taller than I thought he’d be.”

Deacon spoke up, “His father was very tall.”

“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Nah.”

“Shaun here has a natural affinity for machines, Proctor. He’d make a fine member of the Order of the Shield someday.”

“Does he?” She moved a little closer to him, “So, Shaun, what do you think of the T-51?”

He’d been staring at the armor with an almost lovestruck expression. “It’s  _ gorgeous. _ Definitely an improvement over the T-45. My dad used it at Anchorage, you know! The poly-laminate composite is amazing! Capable of safely absorbing 2500 Joules of impact! They even made the visor’s bulletproof. Mom said that’s what saved Dad’s life during the war. When the turret he was trying to repair blew, his suit saved him from all the shrapnel and stuff, and it dampened the concussive blast enough that he didn’t die, he just...you know...got his brain waffled a little. He even kept fighting. Mom said his men had to forcibly eject him from the armor because he just wouldn’t quit.” He finally gave up trying to keep his hands in his pockets as ordered and ghosted them along the outer plating. “Someday I’m going to wear it, too. Just like he did.”

“I didn’t know Bradley’s husband had been military.”

Deacon shrugged, “Colonel Bradley was kind of a big deal before the bombs fell.”

“Colonel?” She frowned thoughtfully, “Then...he would have outranked the first Elder Maxson, right?”

He smiled, “Yup.”

“Dad was going to be a general someday. Mom said he was fast tracked.” Shaun tore his eyes away from the armor to look to Deacon. “I tried looking that up like you said, but I couldn’t find it in the dictionary. What’s it mean, anyway?”

“It means your dad’s career was boosted by the people in power. Kinda like this Elder Maxson’s was.”

“Oooh.”

Arthur frowned. It was probably true that his name had pushed his promotion up by a few years, or decades, but he still felt like he’d earned the rank. He’d worked harder than anyone else to keep the Eastern Chapter from crumbling, hadn’t he? “I wouldn’t say it was boosted.”

Deacon just smirked, “M’kay.”

Ingram put her hand on Shaun’s shoulder and lead him over to a different station, “Since you’re clearly an expert and all, how about you check out this new suit we’ve been working on?”

Shaun stared at the prototype and his mouth dropped open, “It’s me sized!”

She chuckled, “Well, technically, it’s your mom’s size. Elder Maxson designed it and I put her together. The world’s first suit of T-30.”

“T-30?”

“Because it's about half the size of the T-60.”

He laughed, “It’s great! Does it really work?”

“Well, of course it works! What do you think we do down here? Make toys?”

Deacon frowned at the suit, “Something like that. Ella’s not into power armor, you know.”

Ingram almost rolled her eyes but caught herself, “Yeah, we’ve noticed. She said it was too heavy and confining. Which is why this suit isn’t.”

Shaun walked around the suit, taking it all in. “Oh, hidden core. That’s smart.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s smart about it.” Ingram picked up the helmet and handed it to the boy. “Try it on.”

He managed to tear his eyes off the helmet just long enough to look for Deacon’s approving shrug and put it on head, the visor flashing briefly while it came online. “Oh, wow! The hud’s open!”

“Yup. Full three-sixty vision.”

“It’s like I’m not even wearing a helmet!”

“That’s right.”

Deacon looked almost impressed. “Interesting.”   


Shaun’s head tilted this way and that, “It’s...there’s a delay though. It’s not in real time.”

“You can tell that?” The boy’s perception must be off the charts if he could detect the quarter of a millisecond delay between the sensors and the hud’s projection.

He shrugged, “Just a little. Like if I turn my head really quick. I can tell it’s not keeping up.”

Ingram frowned a little and made a note on the notepad hanging from the station. “Try up and down.”

Shaun nodded his head, “Oh! That’s even worse.”

“Damn. Going to have to adjust the frame rate.”

He popped the helmet off and handed it to her, “It’s good though, for a first pass!”

Her face scrunched up a little, “This is hardly a first pass for the T-30.”

“Oh...well, it’s still pretty good.”

None of the squires who had tested the armor had noticed anything wrong with the hud’s feed. Arthur frowned thoughtfully. This might be their only chance at testing the armor with someone who was enough like Bradley to be able to troubleshoot it correctly. “Deacon?”

“Hmm?”

“Would it be alright if Shaun tried on the armor? The whole suit?”

Shaun’s eyes went as wide as they possibly could and he immediately turned that sad puppy dog gaze onto Deacon. “Please? Oh,  _ please _ can I?”

He folded his arms and frowned, “What would your mom say if she found out?”

“Well...she’d probably be pretty mad.”

“Yeah.”

“But what if she  _ didn’t _ find out?” He gave him an unsure but somehow persuasive smile and Arthur bit back a laugh. It was the exact same one Ella had flashed him a half second before she jumped off the Prydwen.

Deacon looked at him over his sunglasses and sighed, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, kid, but I think you might be spending too much time around me.”

The smile turned into a full blown pout.  _ “Please, _ Uncle Deacon? Pretty please?”

“You really think you can keep this from your mom?”

“Yeah!”

He shook his head, “Lies. All lies...fine. Whatever. Go nuts. I mean, what can she do, really? Ground us? Pfft.”

Shaun hopped in place a bit and waited impatiently for Ingram to open the suit. He climbed in and gave them a bright smile before the helmet eclipsed his face. “It’s like a dream come true! I can’t believe I’m doing this!”

“Yeah...me, either. Take it easy at first, alright, kiddo? Power armor takes some getting used to.”

“Okay!” He immediately lurched forward and just managed to catch himself before he fell, waving off the three adults who’d moved in unison to grab him. “I’m okay! It’s okay! Sorry! I kinda thought I’d have to really put some oomph behind it, but...it’s so light!” Shaun bounced along a few steps while they watched.

It was the first time Arthur had ever seen someone actually skip in power armor.

He nodded to Ingram to start taking notes. “Alright, son. You know how your mother moves, right?”

Shaun turned back to them, still bouncing slightly, “I guess.”

“So do you think this suit would work for her?”

The helmet tilted just a bit while he thought it over. “I think...maybe?” He held up his hand and made a fist. “Oh...wait, maybe not.”

“Why not?”

“Well, cause it’s...hey, Uncle Deacon, can you pass me that pipe?”

Deacon took a three foot long pipe from the table behind him, “This one?”

“Yeah.” He caught it easily and swished it through the air a few times. “Yeah, see? The grip’s all wrong. I can’t really feel it like you’re supposed to.”

Ingram looked up and frowned, “The grip’s off?”

“Yeah. Mom prefers her sword to a gun, you know.”

The frown grew into a scowl, “Who’s going to use a sword in power armor?”

“Bradley, apparently.” Arthur studied the way Shaun bounced along. “Does your mother teach you fencing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Try a few moves in the suit.”

“Alright!” Shaun dropped into a fighting stance, or tried to anyway. “Oh...no, this isn’t going to work. See? I can’t spread my feet far enough apart.” He stood normally again and moved his arm around. “There’s also...I dunno, resistance, I guess? At the top of my swing. Can’t really slash like this.”

Ingram was writing in shorthand furiously, taking page after page of notes, “Anything else, kid?”

“It kinda wants to bunch up along my shoulder a little.”

“Right.”

Deacon watched Shaun moving around for a minute, “What about a cartwheel?”

Arthur and Ingram both looked at him. “A what?”

“A cartwheel. Ella’s...flexible. One of her biggest issues with power armor is that it isn’t.”

Shaun twisted a bit this way and that. “I dunno...I doubt the servos could handle something like that, right?”

He walked over and took the pipe from him. “Try one.”

“Wait!” Ingram held up a hand, “Not here in my bay! Let’s go down to the tarmac if we’re going to get crazy.”

“Oh! Yes! Yes, let’s! Can I jump off the Prydwen?”

“No.” Deacon kept a hand on the back of his suit almost the entire way through the ship, onto a vertibird, and back down to the airport.

Once back on the surface, and away from anything that could possibly be destroyed, Arthur did his best to ignore the steadily growing audience around them. Knights and Scribes and the like who suddenly had pressing matters to attend to at this particular end of the airport.

If Shaun had noticed he was now center stage, he gave no indication of it. Instead he just kept bouncing along, skipping every few steps and calling out the occasional observation for Ingram, following closely behind, to write down.

“Alright, kiddo. Give it a whirl.”

He paused in bouncing, “What if I fall though?”

“Then you get back up.”

“No, but like, won’t that mess up the paint?”

Ingram waved off his worry, “It’ll buff out. Now let’s see what you’ve got, kid.”

His head turned towards Deacon and nodded at the thumbs up he received, “Okay! Here I go!” Shaun took off away from them and threw himself into a tumbling run. He managed two cartwheels and finally fell on the pavement in the middle of something that involved bending over backwards, skidding along for a moment before he hopped back up. “Oh! I’m sorry!”

Deacon chuckled, “It’s alright. Backsprings are hard.”

“Yeah!” He turned to Ingram, “There’s not enough bend in the torso. Mom will never wear this thing.”

She scowled, “If we increase flexibility, we’ll decrease its strength. What if she takes a direct hit?”

Shaun taped the outside of the suit with a fist, “Well...what if you made a mesh?”

“A mesh?”

“Yeah, from the composite. Like chainmail. You could even line it with Tinker’s ballistic weave, too. Then nothing could get through it.”

Her head tilted as she studied the suit, “Yeah...but then that messes with the structural integrity, doesn’t it? How’s she supposed to hold the shoulders and arms if it’s just her own muscles against the weight?”

He shrugged, “I mean...do the shoulders and arms have to be solid, anyway? You need more flexibility there, too, right? Otherwise she can’t fight like she likes.”

She looked to the Elder, “I feel like we’re getting further and further away from actual power armor.”

“Maybe we are...but maybe that’s not a bad thing.” He looked at the suit, “Sentinel Bradley is a...different kind of Sentinel. She should have a different kind of armor.”

“So we start all over?  _ Again?” _

Before Arthur could open his mouth, Shaun interjected, “Oh, no! You don’t have to start over from scratch! The legs are great! I mean...you need a little more give in the hips and all, but the movement is really good! And the helmet is great, too!”

He chuckled at Ingram’s gloomy expression, “See? We get to keep the feet and the helmet.”

“Great. That’s...that’s great.” She sighed and turned back to Shaun, “Alright, kid, activate the treads.”

“The what?”

“It’s on the hud. That little icon with the two circles.”

“Oh...yeah, I see it.” There was a brief pause and then the suit made a whirring noise and Shaun grew by almost an inch suddenly. “Hey! Hey, it’s got wheels!”

“Treads.”

“It’s like roller skates! Uncle Deacon!” He spun in place once with a surprising amount of skill. “Check it out!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty groovy.”

Shaun’s head turned back towards Ingram and Arthur and he knew the kid was beaming inside his helmet, even without seeing his face. “Mom taught me how to roller skate a couple of months ago! The hallway down to the lab is--”

“Shaun.”

He started a bit at Deacon’s warning tone and nodded, “Right...yeah, sorry. Anyway! She taught me.” He skated along a bit, “These aren’t as smooth, but they’re okay.”

Letting a child play in a restricted laboratory didn’t seem very safe to him, but it did seem like a very  _ Bradley _ kind of thing to do. “Give it some speed. Out to the edge of the runway and back, please.”

“Sure!” Shaun took off, running the first few feet to gain momentum before gliding along.

Ingram watched carefully, “He puts a lot more pressure on the outside of the tread than I assumed would happen.”

“Hmm.” Shaun’s whole stance was different than they’d thought it would be. He leaned forward a little, giving himself more speed and less wind resistance. In hindsight, it had probably been silly to design any of this suit as if someone with an ounce of self-preservation or common sense was going to use it.

They watched him whip around and abruptly slam into the pavement after maybe five feet of backward movement. The collective ‘oof’ from the audience behind them made Arthur chuckle just a bit.

“Huh. I hadn’t really thought about if you wanted to go full reverse in the thing.”

Arthur shrugged, “Makes sense if you were making a hasty retreat.”

“Can’t imagine Bradley retreating, sir.”

He remembered how sad and withdrawn her eyes had been those last few minutes he’d been on her island. “You’d be surprised.”

Deacon checked his watch, “Can we wrap this up? I gotta get Shaun back to the Castle before the last ferry leaves.”

“You didn’t come directly from the island?”

He shrugged, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Alright. Bring it on in, kid!” Ingram walked ahead a little and waved to get Shaun’s attention as he was now trying to glide and jump along at the same time.

Arthur glanced over at Deacon. His entire being was aloof as ever. He cleared his throat. “How...how is Bradley doing these days?”

He turned towards him and raised an eyebrow, “What’s it to you, bub?”

“Just...making small talk.” He turned away from the unreadable man and watched Ingram and Shaun approach them. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

“Okay.” Deacon put his hands in his pockets and smiled warmly at the boy. “Alrighty, Shaun. It’s time to go home.”

“Aw, do I have to?”

“Yeah, you have to. There’s a lot of things your mother will forgive me for, but you missing curfew is not one of them.”

“But I have to put the armor back up on the Prydwen!”

Ingram gave him a sympathetic look, “It’s got an autopilot actually.”

“Aw...fine.” Shaun activated the release and stepped out of the armor. He looked downright disgruntled, but still managed a polite smile. “Thanks for letting me use it, Elder Maxson, Proctor Ingram.”

Arthur couldn’t help himself and reached out, smoothing his hair down as best he could. “You’re welcome...and thank you for being our test pilot.”

“Yeah, I got more notes from your testing it one time than I have in months of squires doing it. You really helped us out, kid.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Deacon put his hand on Shaun’s shoulder, “M’kay, say goodbye to the nice autocrat, son.”

“I’m not an--”

“Bye, Elder Maxson!”

He sighed. Now even the boy was thinking of him as a dictator. “Goodbye, Shaun.”

“See you, Proctor Ingram!”

“You’re welcome in my bay any time, Shaun.”

He grinned, bright and sunny and just like his mother and Deacon gave them both a sarcastic kind of salute as they walked away.

They watched them go and Ingram sighed dejectedly, “So...back to the drawing board?”

Arthur gave her a half smile, “Apparently. May I have your notes for the evening? I’d like to add my own.”

“Sure.” She handed over her notebook. “Excuse the handwriting...he moves fast. It was hard to keep up in places.”

“No doubt.”

“I’ll get the suit back to the bay, sir.”

“Thank you, Ingram.” He walked away, back to the waiting vertibird, already pouring over the proctor’s detailed, if messy, notes. They’d have to be careful to adjust Shaun’s experience to his mother’s more advanced abilities...she had a naturally lower center of gravity, as well. He’d noticed in the way Shaun had walked. It was almost like hers, but just a tiny bit different.

He wasn’t exactly sure how to convey that to Ingram in a way that didn’t suggest he’d spent inordinate amounts of time watching Bradley’s hips sway, but surely the words existed.

Of course, all of this was a fool’s errand if she was never going to come back here. Which seemed to be her plan since what he’d named ‘The Ferryhouse Incident’ in his mind had occurred. It had been over a month with no informal communication between them. Oh, the Minutemen General still wrote polite weekly letters to the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, but letters from Ella to Arthur? No.

Danse still got his letters. Cade and Neriah, too. Even Quinlan still received little notes with new chess moves in them.

But not Arthur. Not after he’d blown it. Again.

He’d thought a lot about what she’d said. About this being some kind of puppy love or a simple infatuation. He just couldn’t wrap his head around that. He’d experienced puppy love already. This was different. More, somehow.  _ Worse. _ So, so much worse.

He’d thought even more about how her eyes had looked in the dark. The way she’d retreated inward from him, even as she stood her ground physically.

It was madness. She’d been right on that, at least. He’d done everything he could in the past month to remove the idea of her from his mind altogether, replacing it with a more impersonal facsimile. He wouldn’t even call her by her given name in his own thoughts anymore. Arthur had worked nonstop to disassociate anything Bradley with the woman his heart kept telling him to chase after.

So far it wasn’t going so hot.

Even now, back at his desk in his quarters, going over Ingram’s notes and sketching out rough drafts for the next prototype, she was there. Haunting him like some kind of unshakable phantom. Deacon’s mention of her being flexible was especially irksome. She’d clearly taught Shaun some kind of acrobatic skills, which meant she possessed them herself, right? Of course. Of  _ course _ she did.

She was beautiful and fiery and wonderful and every new thing he learned about her just reaffirmed his...whatever this feeling was.

It absolutely was  _ not _ puppy love though. He knew that much, at least.

He’d even tried journaling some of his thoughts down to get them out of his head. It had quickly devolved into drinking and writing a night’s worth of insipid poetry about her that he’d been ashamed to read in the light of day. The entire notebook had met a quick end in the incinerator.

How could he have possibly thought ‘cerulean orbs’ was a good way to describe her eyes? Honestly.

A few hours into sketching, a squire arrived with a tray for him and he was momentarily confused. Somehow he’d completely missed mess call. He thanked the boy and set aside his plans for a moment, absentmindedly eating and wondering how long it would take Ingram and Teagan to come up with a way to turn poly-laminate composite into a workable mesh when loud voices cut through his thinking.

“You’re an unfeeling bastard!”

Arthur frowned to himself. Almost sounded like Knight Rath...except he’d never heard her get loud like  _ that _ before.

“Calm down, Evelyn. Your behavior is unbecoming of a Brotherhood Knight.”

His frown deepened. He knew that rumble. Danse. There was an outraged scream followed by a loud crash that finally had him getting to his feet.

Drama between his officers was usually best worked out among themselves, but he couldn’t let anyone destroy his ship.

He poked his head out and surveyed the scene. Rath was breathing hard, face so red it was almost purple. Clearly enraged. It appeared she’d thrown...a  _ table? _ An actual table.

Danse, on the other hand, just looked resigned and awkward. The table had hit his power armor and caused a scratch down the front of it, but not much else.

Their eyes met and Arthur was surprised at the sadness there.

“What’s the meaning of this, Paladin?”

Danse sighed, “A small personal disagreement, Elder Maxson.”

Rath pointed at the paladin, “He’s a traitor to the Brotherhood!”

Arthur scowled, “That’s a bold accusation, Knight.”

“I am not a traitor.”

“You’d rather run around with some Wasteland whore than--”

Danse’s face went from impassive mountain to angry thunderhead in a flash, “Shut your mouth!”

He stepped between them, “That’s enough. Knight Rath, Paladin Danse is your superior officer and you have no right to act this way towards him or any other member of our crew.” Arthur motioned the two knights who were supposed to be on guard, but who seemed rather frozen in this uncomfortable moment. “Take her upstairs to Cade. She’s clearly...overwrought. Rath, you are remanded to his care and after that, you will report to Knight-Sergeant Gavil for reassignment.”

Her face fell, “Gavil? You’re putting me in  _ logistics?” _

“Be grateful it's not the brig. You  _ assaulted _ a superior officer.”

The knights flanked her and she stared at her feet dejectedly, “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

He watched them take her to the medbay before turning to Danse, who still looked quite upset. “My quarters.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door closed heavily behind them and Arthur waited for Danse to step out of his armor before beginning the interrogation. “Well?”

Danse ran a hand along the scratch on his breastplate and shook his head, “I...I’m sorry. That display was entirely my fault.”

That didn’t sound right. He went to his personal liquor cabinet and poured them both a whiskey. “Here. Sit down. Take a deep breath and start from the beginning.”

The paladin sat heavily on the couch and Arthur leaned against the table near it, watching his friend.

“Alright…”, he stared down at his glass and shook his head a little. “You know, I always felt like it was kind of...wrong, the way you kept our partners at arm’s length. That it was  _ too _ impersonal. You were right, though. ‘Give way your suspicions to the wisdom of thine Elder’, right? Once again the Codex is correct in all things.”

Arthur frowned to himself. He hadn’t known the necessary distance he maintained between himself and others bothered his friend so much. “Danse, what happened?”

He shrugged, “It appears that Knight Rath got...too attached to me.”

“Ah.”

“She...well, she came by tonight. My door was closed, but she let herself in anyway. She said she could tell things were different between us. That I hadn’t sought her out in a long time and she wanted to know why.”

He wrinkled his nose. He avoided getting close to his officers for this very reason. “Did you give her a reason?”

Danse nodded, “I gave her the truth. I told her that since Miss Cait and I were growing closer, it didn’t seem right to continue having encounters with others.”

“And she didn’t take that well.”

“No, she did not.” He drained his glass and held it up for more, waiting until Arthur had refilled it to continue. “Apparently she’d envisioned an entire future for us.” His eyes were troubled and dark, “I had no idea. I swear I didn’t. I never tried to lead her on or...we didn’t do anything I hadn’t done with others before, I just--”

He held up his hand, “I know. I know you didn’t. Whatever fantasies Knight Rath had about your relationship were entirely of her own design.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Danse finally spoke again.

“I feel awful.”

Arthur sat next to him and put a hand on his back, “You don’t have anything to feel awful about, Danse. It’s kind of you to worry over her feelings so much, but Rath’s an adult. She’s in charge of her own emotions.”

“I know.”

He hated seeing his friend like this. It was like he was quietly bleeding out from a wound on his soul. They needed a happier topic for him to focus on. “I hadn’t realized you were so serious with Cait.”

His head finally came up, “Oh! Oh, no, we’re not...I mean, we haven’t...she’s...it’s a complex situation.”

He nodded along patiently.

“She’s just...she’s been through so much in her life and she isn’t comfortable with...I mean, she’s comfortable with  _ me, _ of course, she says so all the time. It’s just, in the moment, she...Ella says these things just take time and patience.”

“Well, if it’s patience she requires, then you’re the perfect person for her.”

Danse smiled a little, “Thank you, Arthur.” His smile turned just a trifle smug, “We’ve kissed, you know.”

Arthur chuckled at how proud he seemed to have gotten to first base after months of effort. “Really? That’s...remarkable.”

“Well...she kissed me, anyway.”

Better than he was batting. “Nice.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I’d wondered, you know. How things were going.”

“I should have told you...I just wanted to be sure first.”

“I understand.” It occurred to Arthur that it had been ages since their own last time together. “Does this mean that part of our relationship is also finished?”

Danse frowned a little, “Is that what you want?”

He shrugged, “If it's what’s required for you to continue with your wooing of Cait, then that’s how it has to be, right?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it yet...I suppose I didn’t want to.”

Arthur took his hand and squeezed it gently, “It’s alright. No hard feelings here. I won’t chuck a table at your head or anything.”

A small huff of laughter escaped him, “I was completely gobsmacked when she did that. I didn’t even know Rath  _ was _ that strong out of her armor.”

He chuckled, “Well...adrenaline probably played a large part in it.”

“True.” Danse leaned over and hesitantly placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thank you for being understanding of this. It’s very mature of you.”

He felt a pang of true regret and loss zing through him but smiled anyway, “Well, I’m supposed to be, aren’t I? I am the Elder.”

“Arthur.”

He acknowledged the wry look with a shake of his head. So he still wasn’t allowed to retreat behind his title even now. That hardly seemed fair. “I know, I know.”

Danse squeezed his hand one last time before letting go and leaning back against the couch, a little less tense now that the air had been cleared. “Since we’re on the subject of the fairer sex, how are things progressing with Ella? Or are they?”

“They...are not.”

“Did something happen?”

Arthur shrugged, “I honestly have no idea. She’s...complicated.”

“Cade says all the good ones are.”

He snorted, “And who are we to argue with Cade?”

Danse chuckled, “You didn’t try to kiss her again did you?” When the Elder’s face went carefully blank, he sighed, “Goddammit, Arthur.”

“She was going to let me!”

He frowned at the sudden outburst, “What?”

A month’s worth of frustration finally poured out, “I’m sure of it! I’m  _ sure _ she wanted to! I spent the whole day with her; we played cards, I know her tells now and she...she definitely wanted to! But she wouldn’t! She told me I was being  _ ‘inappropriate _ ’ and now she won’t talk to me at all!”

“When did all this happen?”

“Just before I left her island. We were standing on the dock and she...she clearly wanted to, Danse. I swear on the Codex she did! We were so close and then she just...didn’t. Wouldn’t. I...what’s  _ wrong _ with me? Why do I keep chasing her when she’s so  _ stubborn _ about this?”

“The heart wants what it wants. Some poet said that a long time ago.”

“Well, it’s ridiculous! I’ve spent a month trying to push her away in my head and nothing! Nothing helps!”

He nodded, “I know. I felt the same way with Miss Cait.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did. She’s...hardly the Brotherhood type. When we leave here, chances are very good that she’ll most likely stay and that will be it for us. I know this. Just like she knows I’m bound by Steel. We have no illusions about what our future holds and we’re both...resigned to it.”

“Resigned to it?”

“I was going to say we were fine with it, but that would be a lie. I’m not fine with it. I have no idea if she is or not, but I’m certainly not.”

“Oh.”

“What were your expectations for being with Ella?”

Arthur opened his mouth but abruptly closed it before the obvious answer, ‘Babies’, fell out. He shook his head, “I don’t know. I know what I want, but...it's impossible, isn’t it?”

“Does it involve her leaving the Commonwealth?”

“Probably.”

“Then yes, it’s most likely impossible.”

He rubbed his forehead, “So what do I do?”

Danse thought it over carefully, “I honestly don’t know. Ella’s situation is far more complex than mine and Cait’s. There are a lot of factors in play.”

He snorted, “You say that like she’s ever in her life thought before acting.”

“She does.”

“Danse. Really now?”

“She does!” He frowned at Arthur’s incredulous glare. “Just because she never reaches the conclusion a normal person would doesn’t mean she doesn’t think everything through before she does it. Someone who actually lived like that wouldn’t have been able to pull off destroying the Institute like she did.”

“I simply assumed Garvey had done the planning on that particular operation.”

“Preston Garvey is a damn fine soldier, but he’s never been a tactician. That’s Ella’s role in the Minutemen. Always has been. Every settlement, every provisioner trail, every treaty. It’s all her.”

“She jumped off my ship. Without armor.”

“And you caught her, right?”

“Well, yes, but--”

“She knew you would. There was zero chance that you’d let her die or even get injured, and she knew that and acted accordingly.” He shook his head, “I know it can be difficult when you’re in the thick of it with her and it  _ seems _ like she’s acting like a radchicken with its head cut off, but she always,  _ always _ thinks before she acts. She is a mother, after all. She has to, right?”

Arthur thought over her seemingly madcap chess strategy and nodded slowly, “That…makes sense, actually, but how exactly does that help? All it means is she’s thought out being with me and has probably come up with a million reasons by now as to why it’s a bad idea.”

“It helps because you’re dealing with logic, not just emotions, and you can argue logic...even if it’s Ella’s kind of logic. So what if she has a list a mile long that says you two shouldn’t be together? Give her a counter-argument. Come up with pros to every possible con she’s thought up.”

“You want me to argue with a lawyer now?”

“It’s not like she was a  _ proper _ lawyer. She told me she hardly ever saw the inside of a courtroom, actually, just mostly drew up contracts and the like.”

“Still…”

“If this is what you really want, you’re going to have to fight her for it. That’s just how it is.”

Arthur sighed. He was thoughtful and methodical when plotting out his life as well, but could he twist his own thinking into the same sort of shape hers must take? And even if he did, their relationship had an expiration date. Eventually his men would return from their excursion west and they’d have no reason to stay in Boston. At some point they’d have an entire continent between them, wouldn’t they?

He was famous within the Brotherhood for his ability to broker impossible deals, but convincing Ella to leave the Commonwealth and abandon all she’d built? Could he even bring himself to ask that of her? Surely she cared about her empire at least as much as he cared for his, and if she asked him to leave the Brotherhood, he’d…

What  _ would _ he do?

“Danse...if Cait asked you to stay, would you?”

“In the Commonwealth?” He waited for Arthur’s nod before frowning a bit, “I...I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. I suppose I  _ could, _ since we’ll still have the airport, correct? And Ella would probably be grateful to have someone else mind Bosville...I know the other settlements all have mayors or leaders or something--”

“So, you’d at least think about it?”

“I guess I would.” The paladin seemed surprised by his own answer. “That’s...odd. All I could think about before finding her was getting out of this godforsaken place alive, but it’s different now.”

Arthur nodded. He understood exactly how his friend felt. Or thought he did, anyway. “Well...if it ever does come up, know that you have my full support no matter what decision you make. I’d miss you greatly, of course, both as an officer and a friend, but...you should follow your happiness, Danse. Wherever it leads.”

“Sir? The Codex is...fairly clear on lasting partnerships with outsiders.”

“I know. _ ‘Fear those who do not pledge to the Brotherhood for though their eyes may be opened through service, they are now blind. Shield yourself from those not bound to you by steel, for they are the blind. Aid them when you can, but lose not sight of yourself.’” _ He stared at his empty glass as if the answers would magically appear there. Once, there’d been a time when he’d believed every word of the Codex with an ardent passion that only the truly reverent possessed. It seemed to him that level of blind faith became a little harder to hold onto with every year that passed. “Cait seems to be a woman of quality, and I trust that your judgement in all things is impeccable. Your loyalty to the Brotherhood nearly eclipses my own, Danse, but if your heart is set on this woman, then you should do whatever it takes to be with her.”

“There are...more like Rath in our ranks who would object to such an arrangement.”

“Their objections can’t overrule my blessing.”

Danse smiled a little, “They’ll say Elder Lyons corrupted you if you take a stance like that.”

Arthur smiled back, just a trace of the youthful arrogance he once carried like a shield showing through, “Then let them challenge me properly as is written in the Litany. We can all finally find out if my soul really was forged from eternal steel or not.”

He chuckled, “Now that’s hardly fair. You know there’s no one in the Brotherhood who can stand against you in hand to hand combat.”

“No one save you, friend. Isn’t that lucky?”

They spent another hour in idle chit chat before Danse rather awkwardly excused himself for the night. Arthur pretended to not notice, and wondered how long it would take them both to get used to the new normal. His friend had also been his primary sexual partner for so long that it felt wrong somehow to simply part ways with a friendly ‘good night’.

He thought briefly of fishing in the galley for someone who was up for a night of diverting entertainment, but decided against it.

Danse’s new stance on not engaging in sexual relations with anyone save Cait, even though they hadn’t yet begun their own, was intriguing to him. He almost felt relief at his abrupt decision to adopt the same attitude.

After all, exercise was exercise. The same endorphins were released, weren’t they? And he could find relief at his own hand any time he cared to without having to worry about troublesome entanglements or delusional partners dreaming up impossible futures. He knew there were other chemicals the brain released upon having sex with another person. Prolactin, of course, which gave way to pleasant dreams and deep, restful sleep. Serotonin, which improved morale and overall mental health. Oxytocin, as well. A bonding hormone, if his biology lessons could be trusted.

The only partner he could ever remember feeling even remotely bonded to was Danse, so he wasn’t exactly sure when or how that particular hormone came into play. At any rate, he wasn’t looking for a bond with anyone, excepting one incredibly frustrating woman who seemed bound and determined to  _ not _ bond with him on any level. Really, the whole idea of such a chemical existing in his brain was ridiculous and altogether unnecessary from his point of view.

He decided to add a few more reps of pull-ups and push-ups to his nightly regimen. Surely that was just as good as falling into someone’s bed.

It took a little over a week before he finally admitted to himself that no, extra exercise was not actually a viable replacement for actual human contact. He found himself being extra chatty with his officers and once he even ‘borrowed’ one of Quinlan’s cats just to keep him company while he worked. Rumors swirled about the Elder’s newfound celibacy, but were quickly silenced. Probably Danse or Cade’s work. Sharp reminders of the Elder’s right to personal privacy were repeated enough that it widened the gulf between him and his subordinates in an entirely new way.

Arthur wasn’t sure if he felt saddened or liberated by that.

He found himself staying up later and later, soon running on only four hours of sleep per night. It wasn’t intentional, he simply couldn’t shut his brain off like he used to. Nothing helped. He’d tried reading, breathing exercises, and even a disgusting hot, herbal tea that Cade swore by. Most nights he went to bed at midnight and then lay in the darkness, trying to not think about what Bradley must be up to until sleep finally overtook him around two, then it was back up at six for morning calisthenics.

Just a few days past the new year, Arthur lay staring up at his ceiling and attempting to count the rivets in the dim light cast by the intercom. It was something to do, anyway. He was actually dozing, finally, so close to drifting off when a small noise caught his attention.

He frowned to himself and tried to listen harder. It had sounded almost like a tiny ‘ping’ sound from somewhere in his room. He was used to the noises the Prydwen naturally made, the soft vibrations inherent in any military vehicle and the occasional banging around of his fellow soldiers. This was different though. New. Odd.

_ Ping! _

There it went again, soft and almost undetectable. His brain finally matched the sound to the image of a screw falling and hitting metal. Arthur scowled a bit now. Surely any screw that had needed tightening should have been caught by the maintenance teams Ingram dispatched weekly to check over every inch of the Prydwen. Had they slacked off out of some misguided sense of respect? Maybe they’d been too nervous to properly inspect their Elder’s quarters.

He grumbled to himself a bit, irritated and exhausted. If he got hit in the head by some errant piece of metal in his own damn room for a reason so ridiculous, he’d drop kick the entire crew off his flight deck.

A third screw dropping had him setting aside the idea entirely. One screw falling? Fine. It was an imperfect world. Two screws? Perhaps. Three? No. Clearly something was afoot.

He managed to suss out that the screws were dropping from the panel on the vent just above his private table. They were hitting the formica, bouncing silently a few times before finally landing on the metal floor.

Sabotage then. Or quite possibly an assassin. His right hand eased under his pillow and found the grip of the pistol he kept there for just such an emergency with ease. When the fourth and final screw dropped and the panel swung open, he quickly closed his eyes, watching carefully through his lashes and feigning sleep, keeping his breathing slow and even.

A lithe figure in all black dropped silently down from the vent and slunk off the table onto the floor. They paused to get their bearings and finally flipped on some sort of night vision in their mask, the visor glowing faintly green in the dark. It gave them an otherworldly, alien look. Arthur couldn’t see any weapons drawn yet, and shifted a little. Staying too still while pretending to be asleep was a surefire way to blow your cover.

They crept over to his bedside, head tilting a little as they watched him breathing. A gloved hand slowly reached for him and Arthur sprang into action, drawing his weapon and aiming right for the dead center of their mask. The only thing that kept him from immediately blowing a hole in their forehead was the way their hands instantly went up in a clear sign of surrender.

It was against the Codex to kill someone once they’d willingly yielded in battle.

“Reveal yourself, assassin.” He slowly got to his feet, keeping his gun trained on them but his finger away from the trigger.

With careful, deliberate movements, their hands found the mask’s release behind their head and pulled it off in one fluid movement.

Arthur was suddenly hit with disbelief so potent it caused him to lower his weapon altogether, despite what a lifetime of training and common sense kept screaming at him.

“Ella?”


	7. Article 6 - Diplomacy Happens at Night

“Ella?”

“Hi.” She couldn’t seem to look at him and her eyes darted to the floor before she turned away altogether and gestured at the open air duct. “Sorry to _drop in_ on you so late.”

Clearly it was meant to be a joke, but Arthur couldn’t find any humor in the situation. He moved around her and checked the vent. “Are you alright? Is someone after you?”

Her head tilted, “What?”

“Did someone threaten you?” He set his firearm down on the table and came over, holding her by the face so he could get a good look at her pupils. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

She’d tensed when he’d grabbed her, but slowly relaxed and smiled a little, “I’m fine. No one is after me.”

He frowned down at her. It was hard to see detail in the dim light, but she didn’t seem to be injured in any way. “Then why the entrance?”

Her eyes dropped again, “I just...didn’t want anyone else to know I was here.”

Arthur made his hands release her and stepped back to his usual three foot perimeter. “You snuck on board the Prydwen.”

“Yes.”

“Past all the defenses and guards.”

“Yes.”

That meant she’d covered over two miles of ground without getting caught. “How?”

Ella shrugged, “Hitched a ride on a vertibird.”

If she could do it, that meant others could, too. “You will give me the number of that particular bird before you leave.” And heads were going to roll.

“Oh, stop. It wasn’t their fault. I’m very good at what I do, Arthur. They weren’t slacking off. No one would have been able to detect me.”

“So you want me to just accept that we have a hole in our security?”

“Well...it’s a pretty small hole. I doubt anyone else could slip through it.”

He suppressed a frustrated sigh, folded his arms and tried to ignore the adrenaline that had flooded his system when he’d thought someone had been after her, “Why are you here exactly?”

“I…”, she stared at him for a moment before her eyes went a little wide, like she’d just realized where she actually was. “I’m...oh, God, this was a _bad idea._ I’m just...I’m sorry, I’m just going to go now and - and please pretend that this was never happened, okay? Okay.” Ella walked past him, muttering to herself, and climbed the table. She was ready to hop back up into the vent when he moved without thinking and grabbed her around the waist. They both froze. “Wh-what are you doing?”

He honestly had no idea. “Don’t go.”

“This was a mistake.”

“You showed up in my quarters at almost two in the morning. I at least deserve an explanation.”

“It’s just a dream.”

“Ella.”

“A hallucination?”

Arthur was fairly sure she wasn’t actually going to wiggle back into the vent at this point and let her go. “Try again.”

She took a deep breath, “Alright. Alright, fine, just...go sit down, or something. Or put some clothes on...can’t think when you’re…”, she waved her hand at his state of undress and he raised an eyebrow, moving back to his bed and sitting on it.

“Surely you didn’t think I wore my uniform to bed.”

Ella moved back off the table, but stood next to it, escape just a few feet away. “I dunno, I thought, maybe...the Brotherhood had pajamas.”

The idea of standard issue nightwear had him chuckling. “Hardly.” When she still wouldn’t look anywhere near him, he covered his lap with a sheet, shielding his boxers from view. “Better?”

She stared at him a few seconds too long and then looked away, shrugging. “I guess.”

“So? Why are you here?”

She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, “This is...wow, this is not going at all like I thought it would.” She folded her arms and frowned at her feet. “It’s...well...I lied to you. Before. And…”

“You lied.”

“Yes.”

“About what?”

Her eyes met his and she abruptly turned her entire body away from him, “I can’t say it if you’re looking right at me.”

“Alright.” He watched her take another deep breath and her body shifted into something that almost looked like a fighting stance, feet slightly more than shoulder width apart and braced like she was waiting for an attack. Odd.

“When you asked me if I...if I thought about what happened the night of the ball, I said no. That was a lie.”

His eyes widened as the implications of what she was saying washed over him. _“Oh.”_

She shook her head, “It’s not like I wanted to think about it, of course, but...I do. A lot. All the time, even. There. I said it.”

He tried to think of something eloquent and moving to say, but nothing came. All the blood had unhelpfully rushed out of his head and he was left feeling like an idiot. “Alright.”

Her hands went to her hips and he could imagine the scowl on her face. “It’s just...I was fine, before. I was resigned to...I mean, it’s been over two hundred years. Styles and tastes change, of course. I got used to men _not_ looking at me like that, and, honestly, it was...refreshing, at first, to _finally_ be taken seriously all the time. Even when…”, she grumbled irritably for a moment and then began pacing.

“I am the General, and that’s _fine._ I’m happy to be. It’s...it’s nice helping people and making a difference and all that. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, of course. It’s just my reputation precedes me now and people always see me as this avenging widow or this warrior mother archetype thing, and I was _fine_ with that. I really was. That's just part of who I am now, I guess. And, I mean, I can remember seeing old paintings and things of famous beauties of bygone eras and I would always think ‘well, they wouldn’t be considered very pretty nowadays’, and I was fine with just...not being attractive to men anymore. I really was, but...but then you came along and you look at me like…”

Her pacing came to a halt and she glared at him, surprisingly angry. “You look at me like I’m an actual woman, and that’s not _fair!_ Nobody asked you to!”

“I’m...sorry?” He wasn’t quite sure what to say.

She nodded at him, “You should be sorry! I had a perfectly nice life before you started with those eyes and...and the way you kept trying to...everything was fine! I was coming to terms with it! I had my work and my son and my island and I was supposed to be happy! I got my revenge, I had my memories of what it was to be wanted and loved and...and that was fine! I was _fine!_ And now I’m _not_ fine, and it’s all _your fault!”_

There were tears running down her cheeks now, and that was a million times worse than the anger. He wanted to go to her, but she’d specifically asked that he sit down, so he stayed put. “Ella, please calm down.”

 _“‘Ella, please calm down.’_ God, I’m making a perfect ninny of myself now, aren’t I? This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, you know! You aren’t doing at all what you should. I...I was going to come here and you were just supposed to _act_ like you always have. Why aren’t you just acting like _you’re supposed to?”_

Her voice was nearly at a shout now and he shushed her. “Shh! You didn’t want anyone to know you were here, remember?”

She threw her hands up, “Oh, what does it matter now? Nothing is going to plan anyway! Who cares?”

Arthur, through sheer force of will, forced the blood back into his brain and studied her. He watched how she irritably sighed and the stiff, angry way she moved. Almost like… “You’re trapped.”

Her head snapped up and she glowered at him, “Excuse me?”

“All that talk, back at your house, about how I was trapped in my position...you’re trapped, too, aren’t you? They’ve made you into the madonna of the Commonwealth.”

She stood up straighter, “I am what I choose to be. No one forced it on me.”

“Maybe, but you’re still limited by it just like I’m limited by being Elder...and you hate it, don’t you?”

“What are you, some kind of shrink?”

“Ella...what you said before...you’re wrong, you know. Objectively, in any era, you are beautiful. You have to know that.”

A tiny huff of laughter escaped her, “Well, if I am, you’re the only one who’s noticed.”

There was too much pain in the sound for it to not have a proper source. “Who was it?”

“What?”

“Someone rejected you, didn’t they? Who was it?” He simply wanted to have a ‘talk’ with whoever it was. A perfectly calm and not at all violent sort of ‘talk’.

She shook her head, “Nobody...it doesn’t matter.”

Awkward silence filled the room. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but he was thunderstruck by the idea of her being rejected by some wasteland idiot like she wasn’t the treasure she clearly was.

“He’s a fool.”

“He’s really not.”

“If he can’t see what’s right in front of his face, then he absolutely is.”

She shrugged a little, “Well...it doesn’t matter in the end, does it? He just...doesn’t see me like that. Which, circumstances being what they are, is perfectly understandable. I was fine with that, too, but…”

He smiled crookedly, “Now you aren’t and it’s my fault.”

“No...no, of course it’s not. I’m sorry I said that.” Ella sighed, all the spirit and anger from before seemingly drained away. She wiped her eyes and shook her head. “None of this is your fault.”

“I can’t help how I see you, Ella. I...tried, for a long time. I’m still trying, but...it’s not going very well.”

She took a step towards him and then stopped herself. “No, I-I like it. Don’t stop.”

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he was almost sure she was blushing. “What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?”

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment and stared at the floor. “I thought I’d show up and you’d just sort of...take action, like you did that night.”

His eyebrows shot up, “Is that what you want?”

She seemed to want to put her hands in her pockets, but her outfit didn’t have pockets, so she finally folded her arms and gave a little half shrug. “Maybe.”

Silence grew in the space between them. Arthur had never had someone approach him this way and it was throwing him off balance a bit, if he were being perfectly honest. “Ella, come here.”

Her eyes came up just long enough to make it almost to his chin before dropping again, and she reluctantly shuffled over to him, each step a hesitation.

When she finally made it over, he watched her fidget a bit. Once, in the field, he’d almost gotten close enough to touch a radstag before it had bolted from him. This kind of reminded him of that. They were nearly eye to eye with him sitting on the bed, and he tilted his head down just a little to catch her gaze, giving her a small smile.

“I’m not going to bite.”

She rolled her eyes a little. “I know that.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and cradled her jaw, “If I try to kiss you right now, are you going to deck me again?”

Her eyes finally met his and she frowned, “That was hardly--”

His lips settling over hers cut off whatever argument she was about to make, and he watched her eyes go wide then slide close before closing his own. She was as soft and sweet as he remembered, and he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him while his tongue swept into her mouth. Her hands settled on his shoulders and she gently pushed him away, breaking free from his kiss and panting, staring at him while she took a half step back.

Arthur studied her face but couldn’t see any signs of distress or anger. “What’s wrong?”

“I, um...I just, well, maybe we could go slowly? It’s...I’m a little rusty at all this.”

“Rusty?”

“Yeah, like...around two hundred and twelve years rusty?”

He blew out his cheeks. Here he’d thought a few weeks was a long time to go without having sex. “So, since before the bombs dropped?” She nodded a little and he stared at her in disbelief, “There’s really been no one since--”

“Since I was defrosted? No.” She shrugged, “I was...busy.”

“Busy.”

“Yes.” She sounded defensive and more than a little embarrassed admitting it.

Arthur wasn’t sure if he should be thrilled or terrified. There was suddenly a lot of pressure riding on the next hour or so. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You honor me.”

Ella stared at him and slowly raised an eyebrow. “I _honor_ you?”

“Yes. You chose me to be the first to…”, he paused, trying to think of a respectful way to phrase it that wouldn’t offend a pre-war woman. “To engage in coitus with since--”

She suddenly burst out laughing, “Engage in _coitus?”_

He blinked at her, confused by her response. “Yes?”

 _“Engage_ in _coitus._ Jesus Christ, it sounds like some kind of slogan for something.” She couldn’t seem to stop giggling and finally put a hand over her mouth, not that it did much to stifle it.

Arthur frowned a bit, “Ella.”

Her eyes were sparkling with mirth now, “I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, isn’t it? I bet they just can’t wait to _engage in coitus_ with the Elder.”

The idea was completely ridiculous and he had to fight not to laugh with her. “I’ll have you know, I’ve never in my life phrased it that way before tonight.”

“So how do you usually say it?”

“We generally refer to that as fucking, but it didn’t seem respectful to call it that with you, so...”

“I feel like you might have the wrong idea of what life was like back in my day, honey. People fucked back then, too. Shocking, I know.”

He rolled his shoulders a little. She was starting to do that thing where she made him feel like a child again. “I know that.”

“And some people even called it that, too.”

He huffed at her, “The movies from your time never use such...language, so I simply assumed it would be distasteful to refer to it like that to you.”

“Oh, well, you can blame the Hays Code for that.” She smiled a little at him, this time without the mocking undertone. “I never used that word for it myself though, so...I guess you must know me better than I thought.”

“What’d you call it?”

“I always just said ‘making love’.”

Heat flooded his face, “B-but, you said, there’s someone -- ”

She nodded, “Yeah, there is, but that’s never going to happen. I’m...fond of you and...not that you should get the wrong idea, of course. This isn’t --”

He covered her mouth with his hand. He could endure a lot, but having to hear her talk about her unrequited feelings for another man was too much. “I could make you happy, you know. If you’d let me try.”

Ella gently moved his hand down and held it in hers. “Arthur, I meant what I said back on the island. The two of us being anything more than ships passing in the night is impossible, and it’s got nothing to do with _that._ It’s just how it is.”

“What makes it impossible?”

She shook her head, “I can’t say. There’s...it’s a lot, and I can’t tell you any of it, so please don’t ask. Just trust me when I say it's impossible.”

“That’s not fair. How am I supposed to convince you otherwise if I don’t have all the facts?”

“You can’t.”

Danse had been right. It was going to be a fight all the way. Well, that was fine. She’d fired the first volley, but he’d take his time, get a feel for the battlefield and win the war. Just like he always did. Talking about it tonight was clearly getting them nowhere. All they were doing was wasting time. He decided to shrug off whatever obstacles she was tossing in their way for now. There were better ways of fighting in the dark.

His hands settled on her hips and thoughtfully rubbed the fabric of her outfit. It had an odd, rubbery feel to it. “What are you wearing, anyway?”

She seemed relieved to have a new topic to focus on. “My marine wetsuit. Found it up in Maine.”

“It’s...different.”

“Good for stealth missions.”

He chuckled a little at that, “Doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?”

“Oh, like anyone in the Brotherhood has room to talk about what I wear. Have you _seen_ Danse in his regular uniform? Christ. He could have been a fitness model in my day.”

Arthur realized, rather belatedly, that she had no idea he and Danse had ever been anything more than Elder and Paladin and smirked a bit, “Yes, I have. So, what does one wear under a wetsuit?”

She shrugged, “Before the war, a bathing suit, but now I just wear a tank top and my underwear. Why?”

“Because, as nice as it is, I think you should take it off.”

Her weight shifted from one foot to the other and she smiled nervously, “That’s what passes for slow around here, huh? Wow.”

There was a hidden zipper that ran down the front of the suit. He’d immediately noticed it once he’d realized it was her. His right hand came up and rested against her breastbone. Her heart was beating like a rabbit’s under his palm and smiled, hoping it wasn’t as predatory as he felt it was. “Shall I do it for you?”

Ella nodded slightly and watched him slowly slide the zipper down, staying uncharacteristically passive as he peeled the suit off her and only moving enough to step out of it. His eyes swept over her, and she finally folded her arms across her chest and irritation showed through. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

She scoffed a bit and he chuckled. Her skin was still smooth and fine, save a few scars here and there, clearly healed by careful hands and stimpaks. They’d have been invisible except the way they sort of reflected the low light. He hadn’t noticed them at all when they’d danced at the ball.

Arthur reached out and brushed against one on her forearm with his fingertips. “What happened here?”

She glanced down and frowned, “Raider my first day out. I saw the gun, but not the knife.”

There was a long, silvery one that went across her shoulder and trialed down her back a bit. “And this one?”

“Gunner slaver. He wanted a kid I was escorting and when I said no, he came back with his buddies. I had to protect the boy, so, one of them got a hit in with a gauntlet before Mac blew their heads off.”

He ghosted a hand down along her waist, past her hip, to the starburst of scar tissue on her left thigh. “Gunshot?”

“The man who took Shaun from the vault. Bastard was already going down, but...he got a shot off anyway.”

He smiled softly, “See? Beautiful.”

“Got a thing for scars, huh?”

“Not at all. I have a thing for strong women who protect those they care about.”

“Oh.” She fidgeted a bit more and then her eyes traced along the scar that ran down his face and over his chest. “Why didn’t you ever get that looked at properly? I’ve always thought it looked like a child sutured it.” When he didn’t answer, she studied his face for a moment before shaking her head in disbelief. “A child _did_ suture it.”

“I was thirteen. Hardly a child.”

“Why?”

He frowned. This didn’t seem to be a very productive topic while they were both staring at each other in their underwear. “We’ll come back to it.”

When it looked like she was going to argue, he decided to hell with it and grabbed her around the waist, turning as he went and all but tossing her into his bed with his body between her and any means of escape. Shock quickly turned into something close to panic on her face and he eased back a bit, no longer hovering over her. He’d never, to his knowledge, bedded a virgin, but based on things he’d heard over the years, this had to feel remarkably similar.

Then again, maybe he sort of was. She’d clearly never been the type to actively seek out companionship. Her strange shyness, the way she seemed so unsure of herself, and her efforts to stall or run away were proof enough of that.

Of course, he was in no better a position. Never in his life had he ever had to coax someone to let their guard down enough to be intimate with him. Certainly he’d never cared about a partner so much or worried over what they’d think of him in the morning. He’d always just acted, done as he pleased, and they’d inevitably come back for more. Simple, easy to manage and not at all terrifying like tonight was.

She was still laying perfectly still, watching him warily while he watched her. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. She’d come to him, hadn’t she? Clearly, she needed a way to get past the nerves that naturally came from being in unknown territory. He grinned a little as inspiration struck.

“Sorry. That was...necessary.”

Her suspicion gave way to exasperation, “When someone says ‘slow’, what do you hear, exactly?”

“Well, with you, I hear ‘I’m too much of a chickenshit to do this properly, so you’ll have to make me’.”

The exasperation quickly turned to irritation, _“Chickenshit?_ Is this was passes for romance in the Brotherhood? You’ve all got some degradation kink? Fine. In that case, your beard does nothing to hide the fact that you have incurable babyface and everyone knows it. There. How’s that feel?”

His hand moved just a bit, now under her shirt instead of over it. “It feels like someone’s still stalling because they’re still a chickenshit.”

“How can I possibly be stalling? _I’m_ the one who came to _you!_ I didn’t see you crawling through my window at midnight!”

“Two in the morning.” His hand felt massive on her waist and he spread his fingers a little, luxuriating in the silky soft feel of her skin.

“Shows what you know! I’ve been on-board since midnight.”

He scooted a little closer and she was so incensed she didn’t even notice. “If I’d snuck into your window at midnight, you’d have had your robot turn me into an Elder kabob.”

“Codsworth goes into sleep mode at ten sharp and only wakes if his sensors pick up on an unknown biosignature.”

“Good to know.” His lips brushed against hers in the dark and she froze up again. He immediately trailed off and nuzzled against her before murmuring in her ear. “This is all at your discretion, Ella. Just say the word and we’ll stop.”

She shivered as his beard tickled the sensitive skin on her neck. “I know.”

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” When she didn’t answer, he leaned back a little and raised an eyebrow. “Do you understand?”

“I understand.” She nibbled on her lower lip a little and frowned, seeming to muster up some courage from somewhere. “I don’t want to stop.” Her hand skimmed along his arm, up his shoulder and came to rest on the back of his neck. “Kiss me again.”

He chuckled. On anyone else, it would sound like a plea, but from her it was a command. He could see himself getting very used to following orders from her...here, anyway. Their lips met again and this time, she leaned into it, pulling his body closer to hers and opening her mouth under his in a clear invitation. Still, he took his time, careful to keep his hand from slipping to other, more interesting places and running his tongue lightly along her lower lip, waiting until a small, needy sound escaped her before deepening the kiss.

Arthur had never had to be so aware of another person in this way. It was difficult, with his heartbeat pounding in his ears, to listen for the slightest change in how she breathed or how, every once in a while, a tiny, muted kind of moan would seem to catch in her throat. She was still holding herself back, he could tell. He waited until her legs shifted restlessly and slid his hand up from her waist, resting it on her breast and staying still until she relaxed a little. His thumb brushed against her pebbled nipple and she arched slightly into his touch.

He broke away from their kiss, and moved down her jaw, nibbling at the pulse fluttering in her neck and liking the breathless sort of way she giggled. He mouthed at her breast through the thin cotton of her shirt before his teeth caught her nipple and he chuckled at her surprised squeak.

“Can we take this off?”

She still looked nervous, but there was a high, excited flush in her cheeks now. Ella nodded, “Okay.”

He waited for her to sit up, and pulled the shirt over her head. He managed to get it past her shoulders before temptation overwhelmed him and he pulled one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud and wrapping a hand around her back to hold her in place while he indulged. She was beautiful here, too. Small, of course, like the rest of her, but still perfect.

She struggled a bit to get the bothersome shirt off, and tossed it somewhere behind them, before twining her arms around his shoulders. A hand slid into his hair and he groaned at the way her nails lightly scored his scalp. He finally released the first nipple and moved onto the second, acknowledging her frustrated sort of whimper with a low chuckle.

She’d said she wanted slow, so that’s what he was going to give her.

One of Ella’s hands trailed down his arm to his unoccupied hand, and moved it. When he suddenly found his fingertips bare inches away from where heat was pouring out of her body, he very nearly lost his head.

Arthur shifted their bodies, rolling slightly so a leg slid between hers and she fell back against the mattress. He rose up over her and studied her face, watching carefully for nerves or any kind of hesitation. Instead all he saw was want and need. His hand moved down a few inches to cup her possessively and he smirked a little at the eager way she clawed at his shoulders.

“Tell me, when someone says ‘slow’, what exactly do _you_ hear?”

She all but growled at him and pulled his head down to hers. “Shut up, Arthur.”

He was still smirking when her lips sealed his, her tongue sliding against his as his hand slid into her panties, past the soft curls there before a single finger pressed against her folds. She felt hot and creamy against his hand, although not as wet as he was used to his partners being. Arthur wondered for a moment if this was part of the difference in being with someone who wasn’t turned on by the idea of fucking the Elder, but who instead simply wanted the man; or if it had more to do with her nerves.

His hand satisfactorily coated in her juices, he turned his attention to finding the perfect rhythm and pressure to apply to her clit. Just the barest of touches had her pressing against his hand. A bit of pressure had her teeth in his lower lip and her moans filling his ears. When he rolled the sensitive nub carefully between his two fingers, her hips began to move with him and he smiled against her mouth. He kept his rhythm steady and sure, loving the way she was coming undone under him.

She finally had to turn away from their kiss, panting and burrowing her face against his shoulder. Her fingertips dug into his skin and he pressed gentle kisses along her neck, unable to tear his eyes away from the way her body moved under his ministrations. She was shivering all over now, her legs drawing up and closing around his hand. He cradled her carefully in his arm and whispered soft words of encouragement in her ear.

“Just let go, sweetheart. Let it happen.”

Ella bucked against his hand and shuddered, letting out a cry that was somewhere between a moan and a sob. It was the sweetest sound Arthur had ever heard. He kept rubbing, softly, until she turned her hips away from his slightly, then he pushed a finger inside her, feeling the last little flutters of her orgasm and groaning at how slick and swollen she felt.

She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him hard, pulling him down against her for a moment before pushing up. He barely had time to make sense of what was happening and then he was on his back with her sprawled out on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him, content to let her do as she pleased even when his cock was throbbing painfully, desperate to be buried in her warmth.

She finally raised up a little, eyes sparkling as she smiled shyly at him, “Thanks.”

Arthur laughed softly, “Any time.”

A bit of mischief peeked through and her grin turned cheeky, “Well...got what I came for, so, I’ll just be leaving now.”

He knew she was joking. It had to be a joke, right? Still, his hands gripped her hips and he pushed her back against his cock, growling at her. “Don’t you dare.”

Ella braced herself on her arms and laughed, “I dunno...it’s pretty late.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Arthur was reasonably sure she wasn’t actually going to leave yet and let go of her just long enough to shuck off his boxers. His hands then returned to her hips, kneading the soft flesh there before slipping into her panties. “Take these off.”

“Bossy.”

“Please.”

“Better.” She moved off him and wiggled out of her panties before settling back on top of him, just above his lap. He leaned up to kiss her and she came forward to meet him before stopping abruptly, a bit of the nerves from earlier showing. “Arthur...all joking aside, it _has_ been a while and --”

“I know. I’ll be gentle.” He rubbed her hips reassuringly and waited for her to relax enough to come to him, nibbling her lips and kissing her sweet and slow, hoping to distract her at least a little while one of his hands gripped his cock and guided it to her entrance. She shivered, involuntarily scooting away from him. The hand still on her hip dug in a little and pressed her back, holding her in place while the head of his cock rubbed against her and quickly became drenched.

The shivering was getting worse, almost a shudder now. Arthur opened his eyes a little and frowned at the tense sort of way her brow was furrowed. He wanted her more than anything, but he couldn’t let their first time be like this. Even if she eventually enjoyed it, somewhere in her subconscious, she’d remember this hesitation and would be reluctant to return to him.

He loosened his grip on her and gently broke free from their kiss. “Ella, this is still your choice. We can stop right now if --”

_“No.”_

“If you aren’t comfortable.” Arthur watched the struggle evident on her face and tried to not take it personally. “This is already the greatest night of my life, you know. We don’t have to do any more than we’ve already done.”

Her eyes opened and she frowned a little at him, “You can’t possibly mean that.”

“I do.” He came up on his elbows a bit and ran his hand through her mussed hair. “I’d resigned myself to the notion that you’d never willingly be in my presence again, so...even if you’d dropped from the ceiling just to play chess or cards or something, that would have been enough. I just want to be with you. I don’t care what we do.”

She sat up and the frown grew. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time all over again. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am.”

Her head tilted a little and he could see she was doing some kind of calculation in her mind. Danse had been right, she never made a move without thinking it out first. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you felt this way?”

He couldn’t hold her stare any longer and looked away. It was embarrassing to admit how long he’d carried this torch, but there was no room for falsehoods between them. His pride would just have to suffer for her curiosity. “I’m honestly not sure, but...maybe since that time when you threatened to blow up the Prydwen.”

She blinked at him, “That was...almost a year ago. Last spring.”

“I know.”

“I had no idea.”

Arthur shrugged, “It’s not like I went around broadcasting it.”

Ella chewed on her lower lip, considering something, and finally raised a hand, stroking his beard gently until he turned his gaze back to her. “The first time you came to the Castle.”

“What?”

“When you brushed the mud off my face. I felt a little...jolt, I guess.”

 _“What?_ Wait. That was _before_ the ball.”

“Yes.”

He stared at her, unsure if he should be infuriated or thrilled. He hadn’t been mistaken. She _had_ wanted him. “Then why did you push me away?”

She saw the irritation on his face and sighed, “Because...because I live a very complicated life, Arthur. I realise it probably doesn’t look that way from the outside, but that’s by design.” Ella shook her head, “There are things that...if you knew about them, you wouldn’t...you...you wouldn’t like them very much. You wouldn’t like _me_ very much.” She frowned to herself. “Maybe this really was a mistake.”

Shit. They’d already moved at least five steps back and he hadn’t even noticed. “Impossible.”

“What?”

“There is nothing you could possibly be up to that would make me not...like you.” ‘Like’ was a poor substitute for what he’d wanted to say right then, but he knew the sentiment would only serve to push her further away at this point. When she looked like she wanted to argue more, he kept on. “I wanted you even when you hated me and wanted to blow up my ship, Ella. Face it. I’m…” He waved a hand. “You know.”

“Crazy?”

He huffed a little, “Sure, let’s just go with that.” Arthur saw uncertainty flash across her face and felt oddly triumphant. “Look, if you still want to leave, I’m not going to fight you, or try to make you stay. When you give yourself to me, I don’t want there to be any hesitation. I just want you as you naturally are, fearless and spirited. I don’t want to bed anyone who doesn’t want it at least as much as I do.”

“When I _give myself_ to you?” Her face scrunched up and she laughed a little. “You make everything sound so serious.”

“It is serious to me.”

She watched him for a moment and then laughed again. “I always forget how young you actually are.”

He felt his ire start to rise and glowered at her, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re just very...passionate. It’s surprising, at times. That’s all.”

Arthur frowned at her, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing you do whenever you want to distance yourself from me. Don’t pretend like I’m a silly child and you’re some paragon of maturity.”

She seemed caught unawares by his outburst and opened her mouth as if to argue before closing it and nodding a little. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Her apology would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn’t already been laying down. “I’m right...well, there’s a first.” He grumbled irritably and it took him some time to notice she was softly smiling at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, grinning at his stunned expression. “Kiss me, Arthur.”

“I...alright.” He felt hopelessly lost and confused, but did as she ordered. He kept himself propped up on one elbow and brought his other hand up to twine in her hair, not trying to hold her in place, just enjoying being able to touch it finally like he’d always wanted. He’d spent far too many hours wondering if it was as soft as it had always looked and was delighted to find it was even better than he’d imagined. His cock stirred against her backside but he ignored it. Even if that particular desire didn’t get satiated tonight, he still had the rest of her to feast upon.

She kissed him like it was the first time, full of tenderness and delicate exploration. He fell headfirst into the intoxicating feeling of connecting with someone who actually cared. Whatever Ella truly felt for him, he knew she felt it _in spite_ of him being Elder, not because of it. She was here for him and him alone. He could have been born a caravaneer's son and she wouldn’t have cared. Hell, she probably would have been in his arms months earlier if that had been the case.

Her hand slipped down his chest and past his stomach, wrapping gently around his cock and his whole body jerked in surprise. She pumped him a few times as if testing his arousal and smiled against his mouth when he groaned.

He was a half step from turning outright savage on her and buried his head against her neck, trying to keep his head. “I’m...you should stop.”

She tugged on his earlobe with her teeth and her grip tightened, “No.”

The hand he’d had in her hair slipped down and sank into the exquisite flesh of her ass of its own accord. “I’m only a man, sweetheart, I...you’re pushing too far.”

“That’s probably true.” Her voice was soft and husky in his ear. Her hips shifted forward and she pressed him right against her core. “Better?”

Arthur’s face twisted with the effort to control himself and he sat up further, his other hand joined in grasping at her, wanting more than anything to push her down and impale her body and settling for kneading roughly. “Ella.” Her name fell out of his mouth as a prayer of sorts.

She finally released him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight as she wiggled down just enough for the head of his cock to breach her. She shivered, shifting forward again and he felt warm, liquid heat slide down his shaft. “Arthur, please?”

Though it took more effort than he thought himself capable of, he managed to keep command of himself while he pressed down on her hips, pausing any time he met resistance and only moving again when she’d start to squirm in his hold. By the time he was fully seated within her, he knew she’d have bruises on her hips when she left him. She felt glorious, tight and grasping around his cock; her body clinging to him and already quivering slightly. His arms wrapped around her and held her tightly in place, trying to keep some semblance of self control in the face of ecstasy. She was melded against his chest now, her head right over his heart. It made him remember how delicate she really was compared to him and he briefly scolded himself for wanting to follow his instinct and fuck her into oblivion.

He lifted a shaking hand to her face and tilted it up, claiming her mouth possessively because he truly couldn’t help himself before pulling back. “Are you alright?”

Her eyes opened and they were dark and dreamy as she stared up at him. “Yes.”

He’d never seen that look on a person’s face before and frowned at her, “Are you certain?”

She sat up a little in his lap and spread her legs further, squirming down another quarter inch and biting her lip as her body adjusted to his invasion. Her smile when he groaned was downright wicked and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “Yes.” She threw her weight back a little and tugged on his shoulders.

Arthur unthinkingly followed her direction and found himself pressing her down into his mattress. He had a moment of sheer disbelief as her legs wrapped around his waist. She experimentally moved against him, laughing breathlessly as she did. He’d dreamed of this moment since forever, it seemed. Part of him couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

He watched her, trying to take in every part of her writhing beneath him and wishing he’d thought to turn on a brighter light. She was half in shadow with his body over hers and it only added to the unreal feeling of this stolen moment. Just her eyes seemed real in the dark, silvery and audacious as ever. They caught his and that wicked smile slid into something darker and almost dangerous.

“Arthur?”

He braced himself carefully above her, worried he’d accidentally hurt her somehow. “Yes?”

“This is the part where we _engage in coitus,_ honey.”

He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and laughed, “Yes, thank you. I had figured that out.”

“Could have fooled me.”

As much as he loved that impudence of hers, he wanted to conquer it somehow. His hips swiveled against hers and she very satisfyingly shut up, whimpering and throwing her head back while he smirked and nuzzled against her neck. He pressed a little deeper into her before pulling out; only a few inches as he couldn’t bring himself to go further. Her heat was too addictive for that. After a few careful thrusts into her body, he was satisfied he wouldn’t actually hurt her, and began fucking her in earnest.

She moved more than the others. He realized that somewhere far off where actual thought was still possible. Her body flexed around his and she clawed at his back, desperate for leverage to push against him, it seemed. When she’d finally found the perfect angle for her own pleasure, she cried out softly with every stroke. The sound was muted, involuntary. He could immediately tell the difference Danse had talked about. The partners who’d come before her had truly been theatrical, just as he’d said. Arthur shook his head a little at that, irritated with himself for never noticing.

Just as an experiment, he abruptly changed the rhythm and chuckled a little at her unhappy sound. Her eyes snapped open and she pouted at him in an angry sort of way until he changed back. She smiled almost as soon as he did and arched against him, pulling his head down and whispering against his mouth.

“Yes, please, just like that. Please don’t stop.”

Then she was sucking on his lower lip and all thinking became impossible. All that was left was a desperate need to make her blissfully happy under him. That, and to be as deep within her as he could get. His hands moved down to her hips and lifted her a little. He could feel the head of his cock drag against the front of her sheath and she bucked against him every time, those muted sounds becoming a little desperate and delicious to his ears.

Arthur felt her start to become impossibly tight around his shaft, her pussy going from hot to scorching. He gritted his teeth, groaning as she finally tipped over the edge and her body spasmed around his, undulating waves suddenly milking his cock. Her cries were suddenly much, much louder and he fell forward, a hand over her mouth while he pounded into her and she shuddered beneath him, her legs pulling him ever closer.

He felt that spiraling pleasure pool at the base of his spine, the familiar tightness of his cock swelling, and then he was suddenly exploding within her, grunting with every new eruption of come. He could feel it seeping into her, slightly cooler than her own heat, and sliding out of her body and onto his own balls. He couldn’t remember ever coming as hard in his entire life, and ground his hips against hers as he filled her to overflowing, ravaging her mouth for a moment before moving onto her neck, sucking and biting at the tender flesh there and smiling against her when she giggled.

He felt giddy and a touch lightheaded; both satisfied and not. He could come within her a thousand times and still want more.

Her hands rubbed his back and one ran through his hair, gently scratching as he slowly came back to himself. He had no desire whatsoever to stop moving within her and so he didn’t, settling for slow, tiny movements. Just enough friction to keep him hard.

She shivered and her legs finally released him. He still kept moving and she finally huffed a little after one particularly delectable shiver and nipped at his shoulder.

Arthur moved back just enough to see her face, grinning at her grumpy expression. “What?”

Another shiver swept through her and she involuntarily bit her lip before scowling, “That’s mean.”

He feigned ignorance and pressed a little harder into her at the apex of his thrust, “What is?”

Ella whimpered and then scowled harder when his grin grew. “You know very well what.”

He chuckled, “Surely you didn’t think we were finished already?”

Her eyes went a bit wide, “But...it’s late. You said so yourself.”

Arthur caught one of her hands and threaded his fingers with hers before holding it down against the mattress. “It’s early now, and there’s nothing wrong with getting up early. It’s good for you.” He raised an eyebrow, “Unless, of course, you’re too tired to continue. I’d understand completely, what with you being so ancient and all.”

The scowl came back, _“I’m_ not tired. I just thought _you_ might be. I feel fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Hmm. We’ll have to work on that.” He backed up a bit and managed to latch onto her breast, just the tip of his cock still inside her. Arthur knew it drove her crazy by the way her hips immediately shifted, trying to take more of him in.

She made a purring sort of noise and it went right to his ego. “We will?”

He released her nipple and nuzzled against her ear, “Yes, we will. Unless you really want me to stop.”

Ella shook her head a little, “No.”

“No?”

Her free hand wrapped around the nape of his neck and brought his mouth to hers. “More.”

It was instantly his new favorite word.


	8. Article 7 - Negotiations Begin

The lights in the Elder’s quarters had been programmed to switch on to forty percent illumination at exactly 5:40am, every morning since Arthur had been living aboard the Prydwen. It gave him twenty minutes to wake up properly before reveille was broadcast shipwide at 6am and Kells began his morning report. Rain, shine, in sickness and in health, he woke at the same time every single day.

He’d gotten so used to it that now his eyes opened on their own even before the lights started to come on.

Arthur blinked in the darkness and tried to focus his mind. He felt exhausted. The last time he could remember waking up this tired was when they’d originally taken the airport. The fight had lasted into the wee hours and, despite Cade’s strong recommendations that he have a bit of a lie in, his brain had still insisted upon rousing him after only an hour’s rest.

He was trying to puzzle out what he’d done to make himself so tired, or if perhaps he was coming down with something, when there was movement next to him and the events of the previous night suddenly came roaring back at him in sharp focus.

Ella was there. In _his_ bed. It hadn’t been a dream.

He watched her for a few moments before curling around her back, pulling her against him and smiling when she murmured happily. Her hair was all over the place, her lips swollen and bruised, and he’d done that. He squeezed her as tightly as he dared and pressed a soft kiss against her temple before slipping out of bed to begin his usual morning routine.

He couldn’t believe she’d stayed. She’d actually stayed. If she’d left, slipped out in the night like a ghost, he would have had to convince himself that it had happened at all. He hurriedly went to the bathroom and stared at his reflection. It still looked the same somehow and he frowned a little at the lack of change. That shouldn’t be possible after waking up feeling like a whole new man.

By the time he got back into his room, the lights were easing on. Ella muttered irritably in her sleep and rolled back over, face buried in his pillow. Arthur couldn’t help but grin to himself. She looked adorable like that, all tangled up in his sheets and somehow managing to take up the entire bed despite her size. Her skin looked golden in the soft light and there were little pink marks here and there from his beard chafing her skin, smeared fingerprints in varying shades of lavender and violet. He felt strangely proud of those marks, even as he fussed at himself for not handling her with more care.

Of course, it was hard to remember how fragile her body really was when she’d kept driving him past the edge of sanity like it was her job.

He quickly got his exercises out of the way and turned on his terminal, uselessly shushing the machine as it went through it’s normal whistles and beeps. He didn’t want to spoil this moment. It was so rare that she ever stayed still long enough for him to truly appreciate her. He could vaguely remember her saying something about how she ‘really must be going’ before they fell asleep around five. Chances were good as soon as she woke up, he was going to have another fight on his hands to keep her here.

His schedule finally came up and he glowered at the screen. Nothing but meetings and inspections and work work work. He didn’t want to do any of that. Not even the planned excursion down to the airport could tempt him from leaving his quarters today.

Arthur was sitting at his desk, quietly sipping on a can of water, watching the sweet rise and fall of Ella’s breathing, when the bosun’s call suddenly sounded and the harsh notes of reveille came blaring through the intercom.

She jerked awake and abruptly scrambled up on her knees, looking around like she had no idea where she was. Her eyes finally found his and he saluted her with his water.

Looked like he wasn’t the only one who’d been convinced last night was a dream.

Ella’s face went from confused to grumpy and she grumbled and fell back into his bed, burrowing her whole head under the pillow. Arthur chuckled. Must be nice to be able to decide to ignore the world just because you felt like it.

The music finally came to a halt, and the Captain’s voice replaced it, echoing through the ship.

“Good morning, Brotherhood. Today is Saturday, January 5th, 2290. It’s another cold and windy day here in the Commonwealth. The temperature is currently 23° and the high for today will be 35°, so if you are scheduled for deployment in the field today, be sure to dress appropriately. Squires are excused from airport duty until we get above freezing, so check with your commanding officers for your alternative assignments. Scribe Neriah has asked me to remind everyone, again, that it is still the molerat’s typical hibernation season, so if you have any business in the lab, please be as quiet as you possibly can. That is all.”

There was loud static, then quiet for just a moment.

Ella dragged her head out from under the pillow and glared at him with one eye, “I should have known the Brotherhood didn’t believe in the weekend.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What’s a weekend?”

Before she could answer, his intercom gave a sharp whistle and he held a finger to his lips. “Good morning, Kells.”

“Good morning, Elder. Are you ready for the morning report, sir?”

“Go ahead.”

Kells immediately launched into his typical report, as he did every morning, but for the first time ever, Arthur wasn’t listening. Instead he watched Ella finally rub what little sleep there was out of her eyes. When she noticed he was watching, she pulled his blanket around herself, giving him a wary kind of look before she started searching for her clothes.

He was surprised at her attempt at modesty. He’d thought they were well past that by now. Certainly she didn’t seem bothered by him being in his boxers the way she’d been scandalized the night before.

She went into the bathroom and closed the door and he tried to puzzle out her strange behavior while Kells droned on about fuel usage and field reports.

“-- and Ingram is suggesting we recalibrate the sensors along the air vents on the flight deck.”

That finally caught his attention and he turned back to the intercom. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that.”

Kells spoke a little louder, “The air vents, sir. One of the sensors tripped last night for no discernible reason and then stopped working altogether. Ingram thinks it shorted out. She’s recommending they all be checked.”

He tried not to laugh. At least he knew where the small hole in his security really was. “Is that really necessary? What could possibly slip through a vent that size?”

“The vents are awfully small, sir, but there have been concerns in the past about Scribe Neriah’s test subjects escaping through them. That’s why the sensors were placed there originally.”

“Are any of the specimens missing?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I think that can wait until spring maintenance. There’s no point in freezing some poor engineer to death just for one tiny vent.”

“Very well, sir.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. You have appointments with both Quinlan and Teagan this morning. Knight-Captain Cade has also put in an official reminder that you’re due for your six month check up.”

“Right.”

Ella exited the bathroom, his blanket carefully folded over her arm. She’d dressed back in her tank top and panties from the night before and had taken what had to have been one hell of a quick shower.

She waved a little and motioned towards the door, “I’ll just be going now.” She’d mouthed the words but he could clearly tell what she was saying.

Arthur shook his head, “Why?”

She pointed at the intercom. “You’re busy.”

Kells continued to drone on in the background and Arthur’s jaw clenched, “Stay.” It didn’t have the gravitas behind it he would have liked, being silent, but he knew she knew how serious he was by the way her eyes immediately went to the floor.

She shook her head and smoothed the blanket back in place on his bed before coming back over to him and leaning down to whisper in his ear, “It’s fine. I, um, I had a nice time last night. Thank you.”

Arthur covered the speaker with one hand and pulled her into his lap with the other arm. She squeaked in surprise, just like he knew she would, and he glowered at her. _“Stay.”_

“Arthur, really now.”

He uncovered the speaker. Kells continued to go through his daily schedule and Arthur cleared his throat loudly. “Captain?”

Kells stuttered to a halt, “Yes, Elder?”

“I’m very sorry, but I won’t be doing any of that today.”

There was a long pause on the other end. “Sir?”

“I’m taking a personal day.” Ella blinked at him in surprise before smiling a little and he smiled back. “Please make my apologies to the crew and have them reschedule.” He wrapped both arms around her and nuzzled against her neck, chuckling softly when she had to fight not to giggle.

“Should I send for Knight-Captain Cade, sir?”

He breathed her in. He liked her smelling of his soap. “No need. I’m not ill. I’m just taking a day off.”

Another heavy pause, “Situation, sir?”

Arthur sighed irritably and Ella patted his hair in a bolstering sort of way. “Green, Kells.” He looked up at her and whispered, “He thinks someone is holding me hostage.”

Ella whispered back, “When really it's the other way around.” She took the half finished can of water from his hand and drank it.

“Should I have your meals sent to your room, sir?”

His eyes were glued to the way her throat moved as she swallowed. “Yes, thank you, Kells.”

“You’re welcome, Elder...enjoy your day off.” The last part came out like the Captain still didn't believe what was happening and Arthur made a face at the intercom at his tone.

She finished the water and watched the speaker suspiciously, “Is it safe to talk now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good.” She leaned away from him a bit and put the can on the desk, “I’m glad you’re taking what appears to be your first day off ever, but I really should go.”

He pretended to think it over, “No, I don’t think so.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Arthur...”

“Where do your Minutemen think you are?”

“Scouting for new settlement locations.”

“Ah. Any luck so far?”

She glanced around his room, “Well...I found a pretty good spot, but it’s a little small for our needs so, no, not really.”

“Shame.” He loosened his hold on her a little and noticed she immediately relaxed. He hated that. It was like they were getting pulled back into the awkwardness of the night before all over again. “So when do your men expect you back?”

Ella narrowed her eyes at him before looking away and he knew he’d won. “I usually take the entire weekend for scouting trips.”

There was that word again. “What’s a weekend?”

She shook her head, “Good Lord. A weekend is the two days off work per week that _normal_ people take. Saturday and Sunday.”

“Two days every week?”

“Yup.”

“That seems...excessive.”

“It’s really not.”

“Hmm...so you’re telling me the Commonwealth is just left undefended on these weekends?”

“Of course not. The schedules are staggered. Only about a quarter of our forces are off on any given day.”

Which meant they were never truly at full strength. “What’s the purpose of it?”

“Traditionally, it’s a day for play and a day for rest. So you can...you know, be refreshed for the week.”

“Is Saturday the day for play?”

“Usually.”

“Perfect.” He pulled her down to his mouth and kissed her softly. “Stay with me. Just for today. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“What’s bad about it?”

She frowned at him but wouldn’t answer and he smiled smugly at her. He knew exactly why she thought this was a bad idea. If she stayed, she’d be tempted away from her no doubt infinitely long nonsensical list of reasons why they shouldn’t be together. Of course, admitting that was a good as conceding defeat, which he knew she never would.

“It’s just...not good.”

Despite her troubled look, he knew she was tempted. Sorely. “No one will ever know you were here.”

Ella sighed, “The longer I stay here, the higher the chances of us being discovered.”

So? “My quarters are secure and I won’t tell a soul. You have my word.”

“Not even Danse?”

“Not even Danse.”

“Well…” When she trailed off, chewing on her lip thoughtfully, he pressed a few gentle kisses down her neck and shoulder.

When her eyes got a little unfocused, Arthur had to fight to not grin in triumph.

“I could probably sleep a few more hours, anyway.”

He frowned a little against her skin. _Sleep?_ “If that’s what you wish.”

She yawned behind her hand and slid off his lap. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay...but if somebody sees me, you tell them I was...I dunno, too exhausted to make it to my quarters and collapsed on your floor or something.”

Arthur watched her crawl back into his bed and wrap the blanket around herself. “Of course. Because that’s _far_ more dignified than simply admitting we spent the night engaged in indelicate activities.”

“Mmm. It’s so cold in here.”

“I keep it at sixty during the winter to set an example. Fuel conservation.”

She scoffed at him and hugged the blanket tighter. “Of course you do.”

He frowned and watched her drift back into sleep. Well. Guess he took that day off for nothing. His calendar refreshed itself a moment later, going blank for the first time ever, and he sighed. Now he couldn’t even get anything done.

There was a respectful knock on his door and he went to collect his breakfast from a squire. He wasn’t particularly hungry for his regular gruel and mutfruit, and set it aside for now. His gaze returned to Ella and she shivered a little in her sleep. Her body mass was a lot smaller than his. The room was probably uncomfortable for her, really.

He adjusted his thermostat to sixty-five and, truly having nothing else to do, got in bed behind her. She certainly didn’t seem to want to continue their liaison beyond last night, so he kept his hands to himself. Never let it be said that Sarah Lyons hadn’t brought him up to be a gentleman.

Still, it wasn’t fair. She’d shown him a glimpse of heaven in what was clearly seen as a moment of weakness in her mind and then abruptly shut the gate right in his face.

Ella turned in her sleep and snuggled against his body. Just seeking a source of warmth, no doubt. Arthur grumbled at the injustice of it all but couldn’t help himself in the end and wrapped her in his arms. Somehow, through the fog of indignation he felt, his exhausted body still pulled him down into a fitful sort of sleep, despite his brain’s strong objections. This could be the last time he had this kind of access to her. He should savor it...so his imagination could torture him with the memory later.

When he finally came back to the world a few hours later, it took him a solid ten seconds to make sense of what was happening around him. He wasn’t even oriented the same way, lying face down now with his face buried against Ella’s neck. His leg was between hers and she moved deliciously against his thigh, making irresistible little noises as her hands skimmed along his back and his kneaded at her breast.

Once he came to his senses, he jerked his head up and his hand away from her body. Her eyes slid open and he couldn’t find a name for the expression in them.

“Shit. _Shit,_ Ella, I’m...oh, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t --”

The corner of her mouth quirked up and she pulled him closer. “Shhh. Don’t stop.”

“I...what?”

She rolled her eyes a little and one of her hands slid into his hair. “I said, don’t stop.” It was whispered against his mouth and then she was kissing him, pressing harder against his leg and moaning in a way that wiped the last traces bits of confusion from his mind.

The fates had smiled upon him. He had another chance.

He kissed her back, trying hard to pour every ounce of what he felt for her into it, and raised up over her body. The pouty sound she made when his leg moved away from her made him grin against her and he moved down along her neck, not bothering to ask this time and simply pulling her shirt out of the way when he came across her breasts. They were flushed pink and he drew one dusky nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before pulling in more of the tender flesh. He liked how it made her squirm beneath him, especially the way she whimpered with his hand joined in and he squeezed and rolled the other sensitive bud between his fingers.

His exploration continued south and he felt her shiver as his beard scratched along the soft skin of her belly. His hands hooked into her panties and he stared at her while he ripped them off, almost daring her to object. When all she did was blush harder and bite her lip, he took that as the invitation it was and settled between her legs, his hands keeping her thighs far apart while his eyes feasted on the sight before him. Her folds were the same delicately dusky pink of her nipples, already glistening in the light and entirely too tempting by half.

Arthur’s eyes met hers once more and he smirked at the way she seemed suddenly shy now, eyes wide and the color in her cheeks turning ever more red. He used the flat of his tongue, dragging it slowly across her slit and chuckling when she squeaked breathlessly. Her eyes closed and he watched her head fall back before he turned his attention back to the way she tasted and felt under his mouth. He could feel her fluids already soaking into his beard and pressed harder against her, working his tongue into her body before dragging it out and up, along her pussy before latching onto her clit.

She was already panting beneath him, toes curling against his sheets. Her hands found his head and he was surprised when she pulled him closer to her, grinding against his face while he sucked and nibbled and skillfully drove her closer to completion.

He finally opened his mouth wider around her and pulled in the sensitive nerves that ran along either side of her pearl as well, causing her to buck against him. One of his hands moved down from her thigh and he pressed two fingers into her, rubbing upwards gently until she gasped suddenly. She covered her own mouth and barely managed to muffle her cries as the tension building in her snapped and she convulsed under him.

Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little smug watching her pant and shake. He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he’d made a woman come like this, but it was incredibly gratifying to do it with _this_ woman. He felt like he was king of the mountain as she lay in a boneless sort of puddle there in his bed.

He crawled back up her body, tossing her shirt aside as he went and kissed her, his tongue still coated in her juices. She made happy little noises and hooked a leg around his thigh, pulling him forward. His lips left hers and skimmed down to her ear.

“Turn over.”

Her eyes were dark and dreamy again, like they’d been the night before. He still wasn’t entirely sure what that look meant, exactly, but he knew he liked it. She smiled at him and nodded, obediently rolling over and wiggling a little.

He chuckled at that. There was no need for her to try and tempt him. He’d long since fallen victim to her charms. His hand ran down her back and kneaded her ass possessively before slipping between her legs, pressing two fingers back into her and stretching her more fully.

Ella raised up on her elbows and looked back over her shoulder at him, pouting a little until he tore his eyes away from the glorious sight of his hand sinking into her and kissed her again, grinning against her mouth when she scooted further back against him and opened her legs wider so he could get deeper.

He somehow managed to keep his mouth on hers right up until the moment when his cock pressed against her. Then she moaned loudly and he had to break away before he embarrassed himself and lost it all over her backside. His forehead fell against her shoulder and he pushed into her welcoming body, wanting nothing more than to let himself go and trying desperately to prolong the inevitable. If he didn’t let something out soon, he was going to explode.

He groaned as her heat enveloped him. “We should have been doing this from day one.”

She laughed breathlessly beneath him and shifted her hips a little, helping him fill her further. “Day one you thought I just another dirty wastelander. You should have seen the look on your face when you shook my hand.”

Arthur remembered that day like it had just happened and he smiled, even if she couldn’t see it. “I still thought you might be pretty underneath all that dirt, and I was right.” He grunted as he finally bottomed out against her and settled against her back, keeping his weight off her as much as he could. “Now I know you have the prettiest, sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, so I feel completely justified in all those fantasies I had after that day.”

She turned her head enough so their eyes could meet and watched his face carefully. “What fantasies?”

He ground into her and felt his ego swell as she immediately rocked back against him and whimpered softly. “Mostly things like dragging you into my shower, scrubbing you down and then finding a better use for your mouth than yelling at me.” Her eyes went a little wide at that and he smirked, “We’ll get to all that later though.”

“Right.” She stretched just a bit beneath him, trying to reach for his mouth. “Kiss me.”

He arched over her and nibbled at her lips as his hips lazily moved against hers. At this angle, his cock pressed right into that little bundle of nerves deep within her pussy that flooded her with sensation. She made increasingly desperate noises as he moved and he brought one hand up, supporting her jaw while he ravaged her mouth and pumped into her.

She was soaking wet now, and their bodies made an obscenely delicious noise as they met. He felt her shudder under him and knew that when she came, it would be far more powerful than the last time. He needed to feel that. Now.

The hand cradling her jaw slipped back down, wriggling under her body and roughly caressing her clit. He felt her immediately tighten beneath him and broke away from their kiss, his other arm slipping around her as he pushed them both flush with the mattress and fucked her with hard, deep strokes while she began to thrash beneath him. Ella turned her face to the mattress, trying to muffle her sobs as she began to pulse and ripple around his cock.

Arthur lasted only a few seconds longer, his balls pulling up close to his body while he swelled in her shealth before erupting, his come filling her once again. Some ancient instinct took over and he pressed deep, wanting to be buried as far in her body as he possibly could as he unloaded his seed into her. His teeth found her neck and he held her in place, growling a little.

She whimpered beneath him and turned her head weakly towards him, still breathing hard and shuddering through her aftershocks. His name fell softly from her lips in some kind of plea. “Arthur.”

It was barely audible, but somehow enough to cut through the fog of primal satisfaction he found himself floating in. He eased off her neck, kissing her softly and rolling them both slightly so they lay side by side, still connected but with his mass no longer crushing her.

It took a few moments for him to catch his breath and his hands soothed and petted her heated body while he did. He was a little worried maybe he’d gone too far, but she scooted back against him, seemingly content to let him stay right where he was.

“Are you alright?” When he finally found his voice, it was gravely and hoarse and unfamiliar to his own ears.

She nodded, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry if I was --”

“You weren’t.”

He tried to keep his body still, knowing hers was most likely oversensitized by this point, but he found himself unable to stop altogether. She shifted a little and he froze, but her hands found his and rearranged them as she pleased, with one on her breast and another pressed against her mound.

His fingers lightly caressed her clit and then skimmed a little further down, pressing against her lips and groaning at how slick his cock felt as it slid in and out of her. He shouldn’t be so greedy. He’d already had more of her than he’d ever dreamed possible, but he couldn’t stop. Not when she was so hot and delicious and eager in his arms. He picked up the pace a bit, and when she shifted again, clearly trying to take more of him, he moved them both.

Arthur rolled onto his back while pulling her by the hips so she lay on top of him. Her legs fell to either side of his and he planted his feet, finally able to pump into her as deep and hard as he pleased while his hands continued to hold her in place. 

She turned and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him hard while her body shuddered and moved with him. When she broke away, it was only because she was breathing too hard to continue.

“Oh, God...Arthur…”

He decided he rather liked her breathless and kissed her again, bringing a hand up to twine into her hair and hold her in place. He felt her body go almost limp on his and finally pulled back, watching her face and smirking a little when she stared up at him with a dazed expression.

“The more of you I get, the more I have to have.”

She laughed once, soft and sweet, and her eyes slid closed. “Then don’t stop. Please don’t.”

His hand tightened in her hair and he raked his teeth across her lower lip, “Never.”

Ella’s legs tightened around his for a moment, and she shuddered, a soft rippling that seemed to start at her core and then spread outward. Her hands clutched the blankets beneath them and Arthur groaned at the new flash of liquid heat that suddenly engulfed his cock and pooled beneath them. She opened her mouth as if to cry out, but all that came was a rather pitiful sort of whimper. He wrapped his arms around her shaking body and pressed soft kisses against her neck. He stayed buried within her, unmoving, too focused on the way her body quaked around his to do more but groan in her ear.

“You were made for this, sweetheart.”

Her head turned enough to look at him properly, panting a little to catch her breath before finally speaking. “Maybe...maybe I could stay another night. If that’s okay?”

Arthur’s mouth twisted into a small, gleeful kind of smirk. “I think that would be just fine.”

 

 

 

In the week following their secret tête-à-tête, Arthur truly felt like a man reborn. He was sleeping better, for one, lulled into dreams by her scent lingering on his sheets. He was also almost absurdly energetic, racing along from project to project, astounding his subordinates with his newfound drive and determination.

He’d escorted her down to the airport himself on Sunday morning, he in his regular uniform and her back in her wetsuit, cloaked by a StealthBoy the likes of which he’d never seen. Her device somehow erased any trace of her, unlike standard ones that left a telltale ripple of electromagnetic energy in the air. He’d asked how she’d made it, but she’d immediately gone blank faced and mumbled something about ‘hard work and determination’. He had to assume it was something new from her classified laboratory and let it slide. Getting a satisfactory answer there wasn’t worth losing the one he’d gotten just a few moments prior, when she’d promised to return.

Arthur felt her hand slide from his and narrowed his eyes a little, trying to at least find her outline as she moved away from him but there was nothing. It was like she’d simply vanished into the ether.

It was during this contemplation that he’d noticed the water filtration system for Bosville was woefully inadequate for what he hoped the community would grow into. He immediately went to work, startling more than a few settlers as he started shutting down valves and sending squires flying to logistics for specific parts.

He personally had a whole new system designed and built, from scratch, in just under six hours. Ingram came down and approved the new pump and immediately ordered the engineers she’d brought with her to begin work on more.

It had felt good to be actively useful for once, instead of just pushing paper. So he continued with the work, the next day doing a walk-through of the old airport and going over his ideas for outfitting the structure as a proper base and hospital. Ingram followed closely, helping him flesh his ideas out and even coming up with a few of her own. Quinlan followed close behind, taking copious notes and often congratulating him on his brilliance.

He could have done without that last bit.

Ella had given him more than just a taste for her, she’d given him a taste for _normalcy._ The endless salutes and adulation of his brothers and sisters, always a trifle awkward for him to accept, now chafed in a way that had him gritting his teeth. Would anyone else ever look at him and just _see him?_ Or was Ella the sole person in existence who was capable of it?

A solid week of satisfying work and he was starting to get a little antsy for further contact from her. They’d exchanged a few letters back and forth, and he immensely enjoyed the added warmth and intimacy they seemed to have, but a piece of paper was a poor substitute for a woman who moved in his arms like a liquid flame.

He was almost starting to wonder if she’d decided to go back on her word, and stay safely on her island where he couldn’t tempt her with soft kisses and honeyed words. When he woke up the following Saturday and was forced to deal with it being the one-week anniversary of the first time he’d woken next to her, he was downright grumpy.

Still, there was work to be done. Always the work. He threw himself back into it and tried not to think about how surprisingly plaint she’d been under his hands or how eagerly she reached for him in the night.

Arthur was assisting in the maintenance bay, showing a young squire how to properly use a power armor station, when a soft laugh caught his attention and he suddenly stood, staring down towards the galley. He mumbled a few apologies to the child and started walking, not entirely in control of his body, as he followed the sound.

He finally came around the corner and there stood Ella, completely inappropriate as usual in her old boots, a dress with an overly large sweater over it and her silly General hat. She was laughing with Cade, who was staring into an open box in her arms like it held the secrets of the universe.

His face broke into a wide grin and he took two steps forward before he caught himself, immediately scaling it back to a polite smile more befitting an Elder. He slowed his approach a little, too, trying to keep his movements dignified and typical of his office.

“Ella, I didn’t realize you were on ship today.”

She looked up at him, an entirely too cheeky smile on her face. “Oh, hello, Elder. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Hello.”

“It’s Cade’s birthday. Did you know?”

It was hard to keep his eyes from traveling down her figure, but he managed. “I believe I saw that on my calendar this morning.” He turned to Cade and thumped his back a few times. “Happy birthday, Knight-Captain.”

Cade grinned, “Thanks, Elder! Look what this angel brought me.” He tilted the box a little and Arthur made the appropriate appreciative noises over the pastry inside. “A whole pie! Just for me!”

“That’s certainly thoughtful of her.” It certainly was, and the confection smelled divine, if unknown. “I thought cakes were de rigueur for birthday celebrations.”

“They are, and I offered, but Cade said he’d rather have pie.”

He nodded, “Cake is overrated! Give me a quality pie any day!” The medic turned back to Arthur. “You ever taste her pie? None sweeter! I’d stake my entire career on it!”

A tiny, mischievous smile crossed Ella’s face and then she blinked up at him, suddenly the embodiment of innocence. “Oh, goodness, I can’t recall. _Have_ you tasted it, Elder?”

He stared back down at her, trying with all his might to frown or at least keep his face straight, and wholly unable to. He managed to keep his smile from slipping into a smirk, but just barely. “Perhaps. It’s been a while since I’ve sampled any of your delights, Bradley. We don’t see you around much.”

She smirked just a bit before shrugging carelessly, “I’m a terribly busy woman, you know.” Her attention returned to Cade and she smiled graciously, “You enjoy that now, okay? Don’t share it with a soul if you don’t want to. You’re the birthday boy; you can do what you want.”

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t intend to.” He nodded to both of them and then headed for his lab, no doubt to devour half the pie in a single setting.

Arthur watched him go and wondered at how awkward it suddenly was. “It’s uh...it’s nice to see you.”

Ella put her hands in her pockets and smiled politely, “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“I…” he paused as a knight walked down the hall between them. “I also have a birthday.”

Her head tilted, “Yes, I hadn’t thought you sprung forth from the earth fully formed or anything...despite what Quin’s book might suggest.”

He felt heat rush into his face, “What I mean to say is...uh…”

“Would you like a cake for your birthday?”

“Yes! Yes, that would...or, I mean, if it isn’t any trouble for you, of course--”

“Nope. No trouble at all.” Her raised her PipBoy and fiddled with it a bit, “Just tell me when it is and I’ll put it in here.”

He was growing frustrated. He needed a way to get her in his quarters but with so many of their fellow soldiers milling about, it wasn’t like he could just invite her directly. He smiled absentmindedly at yet another person who walked between them and barely acknowledged the salute while his mind frantically tried to come up with a plausible reason for her to come with him.

“Um...I forgot.”

Her head came up and she seemed surprised at how flustered he clearly was, “What?”

“I...forgot when my birthday is.”

An eyebrow came up and she stared at him in open confusion. “You _forgot_ when your _birthday_ is?”

“Y-yes...yes, I did. But, it’s on my terminal, of course. If it wouldn’t be any trouble, you could come with me and--”, another person walked between them and he almost growled in annoyance.

Ella chuckled a little, “Why not just go write it down for me and --”

“No! No, no. Won’t work. I um...I’m all out of paper.” He shrugged helplessly. “Rationing, you understand.”

“All out of _paper?_ Goodness.” She seemed to think it over for a moment, “Well, then I suppose I ought to come with you.”

Relief crashed over him and he smiled, “Yes, yes, you really ought.” He lead her through the ship back to his quarters, nodding at the guards stationed outside and only turning when he was fully in the room, expecting her to be right behind him.

Instead she was chit chatting with the knights outside his door.

“Hello, Sentinel Bradley!”

“Hey! Palmer, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Keeping it tight?”

“You know it, ma’am!”

“Alright, then. How are you doing Bailey?”

“Pretty good, ma’am. Got a message from my mom back home the other day. I’m officially an uncle.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Please pass along my congratulations!”

“I will, ma’am.”

Ella finally gestured to Arthur, who was now tapping his foot. “Gotta go have a conference with the big boss here. If I’m not out in four hours, send a rescue because I’ve died of boredom.” She made a show of rolling her eyes hard.

They both snickered a little before noticing the Elder’s attention and abruptly went back to attention. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Have a good meeting, ma’am.”

“Thanks, boys.” She let herself in and gently shut the door behind her, grinning at his wrathful expression. “What?”

He put his hands on his hips, “You are the most obtuse woman in the history of mankind.”

Her eyes went round and innocent again, “Why, whatever do you mean, Elder Maxson, sir? I’m just here to get your birthday down and all. Since, you know, you _forgot_ it.” She chortled just a bit at the end and his glare intensified.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten my birthday! It’s August first, just like it always is!”

Comical surprise came over her face and she clapped her hands over her cheeks, “Oh, my! Elder! You’ve remembered! It’s a miracle!”

He watched her laugh and sighed, “You’re making fun of me again.”

“Only a little.” She walked up to him and her hand slid up his coat a little. “But, I do have some bad news for you, I’m afraid. I’ve changed my mind.”

His heart stopped beating for at least two seconds before it started pounding wildly in his chest. “Changed your mind?”

“M’hmm.” Her eyes went sad and shimmered in the light with unshed tears. “I...I think I was wrong before…” She paused to dab at her eyes with her sleeve a little. “I don’t think you could give Deacon a run for his money.”

Absolute confusion froze his brain solid. “What?”

“About what I said before? You being good at good at covert ops? You aren’t. You’re just...just _terrible.”_ The sad mask she was wearing finally cracked and she smirked up at him. “Like, the worst. The absolute worst.”

“You...that...oh! Oh, you are...I...I can’t even think of a word for it!”

“The word you’re looking for, darling, is brat.”

“Yes! You _brat!”_

Ella laughed and tossed her hat, PipBoy and sweater on his couch. “Now that we’re all on the same page…” She crossed his room and sat on the bed like she owned it. “Is there some...special reason I just had to have a private meeting with the Elder in his quarters?”

The moment she’d made contact with his blankets, his irritation had fallen away. He chuckled a little, glad to be on the same side of the joke for once. “Perhaps.” His coat joined hers on the couch and he came over, kneeling in front of her. He smiled up at her and it grew when she smiled back. “I missed you.”

“You did?”

“Yes...I was starting to think you weren’t going to come back.”

She laughed softly, “It’s only been a week, Arthur.”

“The longest week of my life.”

“I saw a lot of work happening at the airport. Looked like you’ve been keeping busy.”

He took one of her hands and threaded their fingers together before answering. “Still. I wish you would come more often.”

“Think about what you’re asking...if I suddenly start showing up all the time and disappearing into your quarters, tongues will start wagging.”

“So let them.”

She sighed, “You know that isn’t a good idea...when people found out I work with you, I almost got thrown out of office. If people knew about... _this,_ that would be it. I’d have to resign...probably in disgrace.”

He knew she was right. That there were things in play greater than his emotions and wants, but it didn’t change how he felt. “You’d still have the Brotherhood.”

“Sure, until you all leave...and then it’s just me and all these angry people. Angry Boston mobs have, historically, never been something you want to tangle with.”

“Then come with us.”

Ella shook her head, “You know I can’t.”

“Everyone here adores Shaun. He’d make an excellent squire.”

Her face darkened, “That is _never_ going to happen. Children do not belong on a warship and they certainly do not belong in the field.”

Her tone was icier as she went and Arthur immediately went into damage control mode, “I apologize. That was presumptuous of me. I only meant that Shaun’s...he seems quite gifted, Ella. Those gifts should be encouraged.”

“They _are_ encouraged. In a nurturing, developmentally appropriate way.” Her hand left his and she folded her arms, “In any case, Shaun requires specialized care and Doctor...his physician is not a fan of the Brotherhood. He stays where she stays. End of story.”

The situation was quickly unraveling and he was starting to worry she was about to storm right out altogether. “Of course.” He gently pried her arms apart and took both hands in his. “I’m sorry, I just...I want to tell the world and it’s difficult not to. That’s all.”

“Tell the world what, exactly?”

“That you and I are…”

She lifted a brow, “Are what?”

“Together.”

Her hands squeezed his gently, “Arthur...you know this isn’t like that, right? It’s just...not.”

The desire to throw a childish tantrum was nearly overwhelming and he tried to not sound as sulky as he felt. “I know.”

Her lips brushed against his forehead. “I can’t stay long. Let’s not waste it fighting.”

She was offering him the one thing he’d been obsessing over for a week, and he should be happy, but it wasn’t enough. He was starting to think it would never be enough. He couldn’t take seeing that lingering regret in her eyes and looked away. “Did you miss me at all? Even a little?”

“Of course I did...why do you think I came here?”

“To deliver a pie.”

“Oh, good. So I was convincing then.” Ella rested her forehead against his and laughed, “I came here to see you, because I missed you, too. Cade’s birthday just made for a convenient excuse.”

His eyes finally returned to hers and he couldn’t see any artifice in them. She’d really gone to the trouble of planning out an ironclad ruse just to see him. That had to mean something, didn’t it? “You should stay. Overnight, I mean. Quin says there’s a storm coming.”

“Yes, a big one. It’s going to hit around dinner.” She gave him a half smile. “I do have my own meteorologists, you know.”

Arthur smiled back, “No, actually. You never mentioned that.”

“Oh...well, we do.”

“Where on earth did you find meteorologists in the wasteland?”

Her smile faded just a bit and she shrugged, “Just...around.”

Another secret. He shrugged off the nagging feeling that there were questions he should be asking and difficult, unavoidable conversations on the horizon for them. But that was later, and this was now, and right now she was alone with him, sitting on his bed of her own freewill. If there were a forbidden tree in this Eden, he was perfectly happy to ignore it altogether.

Arthur finally kissed her, soft and careful until he felt her hands start to work his uniform open. Then he smiled against her mouth and moved forward, pushing her back against the bed. He let himself get lost in the warm feel of her body beneath his and wondered at how being here, with her, already felt like home.

If the choice was paradise or knowledge, he’d choose paradise every time.


	9. Article 8 - An Untenable Accord

Arthur followed Ella through the halls of the Castle headed for their guest rooms and tried to not grumble to himself. One thing he had not counted on was just how difficult it would be to have her around  _ without  _ engaging in their undercover relationship.

Which he still needed a better word for. It certainly felt like a grand love affair on his side, but the more they spent time together, the more he was aware of the emotional space between them. Aware and resentful. That carefully constructed, high wall she kept firmly in place around her heart was seemingly impenetrable, despite his best efforts. It was infuriating. He was not used to being stymied, but that wall was starting to look a lot like his Waterloo. He refused to give up defeat, yet it was increasingly difficult to not feel hopeless at this point. Sure, he could melt her into a puddle with his body and his words (sometimes his words), but it wasn’t enough. He wanted  _ more, _ like he always did when it came to her.

It was hard to not reach out for her hand or let his eyes wander where they liked. That would probably have been a trifle awkward with their entourage so closely packed around them though. He and Danse were here on official Brotherhood business, after all. Dragging her off to her private quarters, which he  _ still _ had never seen, to ravish her senseless would probably be frowned upon by Ella. At least once he let her come up for air, anyway.

Plus, Deacon and Xavier were shadowing their group the entire time. The way they stared at him, Deacon especially, made him wonder if maybe they hadn’t been as careful as they’d thought keeping this particular situation under wraps. Deacon’s false smiles always held a bit of a smirk and it seemed to Arthur that he used any excuse he could to touch Ella whenever he was around. Almost mocking him with their casual, friendly closeness, all but marking his territory.

Had he been the one who’d turned her away? He didn’t want her, but no one else could have her, either? Was that it? That was hardly fair, or gentlemanly. He could almost understand Deacon wanting to keep their relationship professional though. The man seemed to always take point on making sure she, or Shaun if he were around, was safe. If he were some sort of official bodyguard, crossing the line into something more could compromise his mission and her safety.

Then again, he was probably seeing morality and magnanimous decision making where only sheer stupidity reigned. After all, if he’d been in a position like that, he’d have simply quit being a Minuteman. It wasn’t like Deacon was Elder of anything. He still had the freedom to choose his own destiny.

When the signal from the reconnaissance team dispatched to Chicago had finally reached them a week ago, everyone on ship had been elated. Then the next message had come and they’d requested the reunification of the Midwestern Chapter with the East take place somewhere away from the Prydwen. It had caused a wave of disquiet to ripple through his command staff and the excitement had dimmed a bit. It was an odd, unprecedented request to make. While their ship wasn’t exactly designed with diplomacy in mind, it still had ample space to host everyone and have the meetings necessary to ensure they accepted Arthur as their High Elder.

Ella had, of course, been kept in the loop by Kells, as the officer of rank after the Elder. She’d immediately offered the use of the Castle for the meeting, citing its place in history as one of the foundation cornerstones of a democratic state.

She was forever trying to push the Brotherhood in that direction, which he still did not appreciate, but he couldn’t argue that she was no doubt better suited for taking point on this. She’d handled hosting the Commonwealth Congress with grace and remarkable skill. Her hosting also took some of the pressure off the Midwestern chapter and wouldn’t come off as Arthur being too pushy for their inevitable consolidation.

He and Danse had arrived and been formally greeted by both her and Lieutenant Garvey. Everything by the books and above board. She’d pinned her Sentinel medal to her General’s uniform for the occasion and he thought it looked perfect there. He’d managed to smile politely and appreciate how dignified she looked for about three seconds before wanting to take her somewhere private and strip her down.

She was still compelling when she was wearing her rank. Still all but hypnotic when she was ordering people about, wearing that silly hat, inspiring both devotion and respect from her men. That had never changed, but now that he knew how soft and sweet she was underneath? The way she’d burn for him and purr under his hands? It was absolutely impossible to not want her in that passionate, pliant state all the time.

It made him grateful that his coat was not only long, but thick, or things would have been difficult...not to mention embarrassing.

It was somehow already spring. They’d come together over a dozen times since that first night, each time at the Prydwen and each time with her leaving all too soon. Her last few letters, however, had spoken of a ‘spring break’ trip for Shaun to Diamond City to visit his Aunt Piper, who was still banned from entering any Minutemen settlement for her treasonous actions last fall. They never spoke of their secret meetings in their friendly, entirely platonic correspondence, but he was sure she was trying to hint that if he were to visit her at her home, doing it on the first weekend in April, when both Shaun and Deacon would be miles away from her island, was the best time to do it.

But that was almost three weeks away and this was this week. And this week, they were simply Elder Maxson and Sentinel-General Bradley. Professional, polite acquaintances and allies.

He hated it.

The Minutemen had been quite busy rebuilding parts of the Castle, and now there was a whole wing of guest rooms available for visiting dignitaries in the lower levels. They’d been built with the next meeting of the Commonwealth Congress in mind, scheduled for summer, and he was glad to see construction was actually ahead of schedule.

Their small group finally came to a halt outside of two doors and Ella gestured to them.

“Here we are, gentlemen! Our finest guest accommodations!”

Danse smiled, “I’m sure they’ll be great.”

“I certainly hope so. We had your room and the Elder’s outfitted with the nicest furniture we could find, and Elder Short’s room is actually full of brand new stuff...I hope that’s alright.” She turned to Arthur, an apologetic smile on her face. “I know as High Elder, you should have technically been given the best room available, but I just thought this might help facilitate a positive outcome for the negotiations. I hope you understand.”

It was the first time she’d spoken directly to him since they’d touched down and for a moment he couldn’t find his voice. “Ah...yes, of course. That’s excellent thinking, General.”

Her smile grew, “Thank you, Elder. And we’re  _ sure _ he just requested the one room?”

Danse nodded, “Yes, Elder Short was famous for his caution, even in his youth. He won’t want his personal guard anywhere but right next to him.”

Ella nodded, “Of course. That makes sense...how old is Elder Short, exactly? I haven’t had time to look at his record yet.”

“He was part of the original group sent by Elder Lyons to make contact with the Midwestern chapter back when I was an infant. He chose to continue on when his men stopped in Pittsburg. Everyone had presumed he’d died, but he  _ was _ Paladin Short back then. We should have had more faith in his abilities. He’s in his fifties now.”

“Okay...so not  _ that  _ old then. That’s good. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to keep the room warm enough if he were very elderly.”

“And this Midwestern Brotherhood...they aren’t like your Brotherhood, right?” Garvey unlocked their doors and stepped back.

“We are all one Brotherhood, Lieutenant. However, their branch was originally established by a small minority within our ranks who felt some of our most central, core beliefs in the Codex were too rigid. The Western branch wished to keep them isolated to avoid a potential civil war, so they were sent east back in the 2100s. Elder Lyons was asked to make contact with them when they sent him to the Capitol Wasteland, but failed.”

He looked impressed, “And you succeeded...so this is a really big deal for you then, huh?”

Arthur chuckled, “It will be if we can convince them to embrace their heritage and join us as a properly recognized chapter again.”

Ella’s head tilted, “What was their problem with the Codex?”

Danse frowned a bit, “They do not see the harm in allowing non-human individuals to join the Brotherhood. They are also more open to outsiders in general than the Western chapter likes.”

“Ah, I see. Well, we should get along great then.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “What time did they say they’d arrive?”

She grinned at him. Her ability to read him like a book had grown exponentially since they’d begun their affair. She knew exactly how annoyed he was, and he already knew she’d decided to push it a little just for her own amusement.

“Eight a.m. sharp. So we should all probably go to bed a little early tonight and study those informational packets Quin worked so hard on.” Her eyes were sparkling with mischief as she smiled brightly at him, “We wouldn’t want to get caught off guard by something unexpectedly coming up tomorrow morning, now would we?”

He stared down at her, trying to keep the memory of their last time together at bay. Ella had deliberately stayed until Monday morning and spent all of Kell’s announcements on her knees, looking up at him with the same mischievous sparkle in her eye, giggling softly at his struggle to stay focused while her mouth had driven him mad. She’d thought it was hilarious right up until the captain had signed off and he’d thrown her across his desk and...

Arthur cleared his throat a little. “Yes, that would be most unfortunate.”

“Xavier here will stay in the hall as your guard.”

Dammit. “Is that necessary?”

Her eyes grew large and concerned, “Elder Maxson, if anything were to happen to you while you’re under our care, I just don’t think I could ever forgive myself! What about you, Preston?”

“It would certainly be a dark mark on our record, ma’am.”

“Exactly.” She seemed almost too chipper. “So Xavier will stay here, and Deacon will keep his regular post outside my door, and we’ll all be nice and safe.”

Danse nodded, “That sounds excellent. Thank you, Ella.”

“Thank  _ you, _ Danse, for trusting me with keeping both you and our dear Elder safe.” They smiled at each other and then she patted Arthur on the arm. “Well, goodnight, Elder. It was lovely seeing you again, and I look forward to seeing you in the morning.”

He wanted to scowl, but settled for a blank, polite sort of smile. “Of course. Good night, General.”

Ella, Preston and Deacon left them in the hall and he sighed a bit. Danse looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Elder?”

He waved his concern off, “It’s nothing, Danse. I’m just...eager to get this all over with.” And then surely the next few weeks would fly by and he’d be in Ella’s bed. Another wonderful first with her.

“Ah. Will you be turning in early then?”   


“Yes, I suppose I shall.”

“Would you mind terribly if I visited with Miss Cait while we’re here?”

Arthur smiled, “Not at all, Danse. Please tell her I said hello.”

“I’ll leave my power armor in my room.”

Xavier spoke up from his spot on the wall, “Take the core out and keep it with you. Sally cannot be trusted.”

Both men stared at him in confusion before Arthur suddenly remembered and snapped his fingers, “The little Boudica!”

“Correct.”

Danse chuckled, “I’ll never let it out of my sight.”

Arthur nodded to both the men and stepped into his room, locking the door behind him. It was cut from the same bedrock stone as the rest of the Castle. Almost more jail cell than room, really. Still, there was a bookshelf on the back wall that looked well stocked, and a perfectly serviceable bed and desk. A door set in the wall between his and Danse’s rooms revealed a small, private bathroom.

Really, excepting its lack of couches, it was basically the same as he was used to on the Prydwen. He wasn’t sure why he was excepting something different. Maybe he was just comparing it to the warm, comfortable feel of Ella’s home. The only hint of her here was the cozy looking blue, quilted bedspread.

He sighed once again and tried to focus up. This wasn’t play. This was work. He tossed his bag into the trunk at the foot of his bed and dug through it for Quinlan’s dossier he’d compiled on Elder Short and the Midwestern Brotherhood. They’d never heard of his escort, a Knight Oakley, so there was nothing on him, of course. But Paladin Short had been something of a trailblazer back in his day, and there was a thick, glowing file on him that Arthur could go through for the millionth time to try and lull his brain to sleep.

Arthur got ready for bed, slipping into a pair of sweatpants for propriety's sake. He was guessing the Minutemen wouldn’t appreciate a guest lounging about in just his underwear, or even the Brotherhood skivvies many of his soldiers preferred to sleep in. At least he knew Ella wouldn’t. He settled onto the surprisingly comfortable mattress and began reading when he frowned. Something was crinkling under him.

He sat back up, huffing in annoyance, slapping the folder on the nearby desk before pulling the covers back. There was a note there, folded carefully and slipped far enough down that no one would have noticed it unless they were using this particular room.

Intrigued, he opened it and immediately recognized Ella’s handwriting.

_ “If you are in need of diversion, I highly recommend checking out ‘Invisible Man’. Top shelf.” _

Well, that was...thoughtful of her, if unnecessary. Arthur had all the diversion he needed to fall asleep with his file of Short’s exciting, sometimes nearly unbelievable adventures. He’d always read through his fellow soldier’s files to go to sleep. Sarah had even used the file of his father’s service record as something of a bedtime story when he’d been a child.

Still, this was sweet. It was also quite possible this book had some kind of special meaning to Ella. Maybe it was a favorite of hers. If that was so, he definitely wanted to read it and gain a deeper understanding of who she was.

Arthur got up and studied the book shelf. A lot of classics, of course, but the top shelf seemed reserved for more frivolous reading.  _ Invisible Man _ was on the right, and he pulled it down.

Or tried to, anyway.

There was a click from behind the wall and the entire bookcase moved, swinging free suddenly. Arthur’s eyes went wide.  _ A secret passage. _ Ella not only had a  _ Castle, _ but that Castle had  _ secret passages. _ It was just like the stories of knights and wizards he’d written as a child.

He cracked it open further and darkness was all he could see. Cool air drifted out from the space and he couldn’t help but smile. Now  _ this _ was diverting. There was an unlit lantern hanging off the back of the bookcase and he hurriedly lit it, excited to go on this adventure she’d arranged for him. He paused only to grab his coat, just in case, and wandered into the narrow hall. The walls here were roughhewn rock, the ground slightly wet packed dirt. He was completely enthralled.

It must be some kind of escape tunnel. That would make perfect sense. He’d read reports about the fall of the previous Minutemen’s regime and knew their last general had been trapped down in the old armory below by...super mutants or mirelurks, perhaps? That was a bit fuzzy to him. The point was, Ella putting in a fallback like this was very smart. Brilliant, really.

God, he loved how clever she was.

He followed the curving path, up and down several sets of stairs and past other, bolted doors. His sense of direction was completely turned around and he assumed he’d eventually find himself outside. Probably by the ocean on the eastern side of the old fort. There was an incline suddenly and he carefully walked up it, the soil here sandier under his feet. It ended at a small landing that had a steep set of stairs heading even further up from that. Looked older than the path he’d just followed. Perhaps part of the original design. There was a door to his right with a heavy padlock on it...which was tempting, but he hadn’t thought to bring a lockpicking kit on this particular mission. He headed up and finally came to a door set in the stone. Some kind of metal. Simple in design. The doorknob didn’t even have a lock. That seemed rather foolish, unless it only locked on the outside, maybe? But what if you needed to escape  _ into _ the Castle? Surely she’d taken that into account.

Arthur very nearly turned around. He had no interest in standing by the Atlantic ocean on a chilly spring night. The spray alone would freeze him down to the bone. But it seemed a little silly to come all this way and then just stop right at the end, even if he did know what was on the other side of the door.

He turned the knob and opened the door. It swung inward, and he found himself confronted by thick blue material. Heavy. Like what he’d always imagined a tapestry would be like. He grinned again. The air moving past his feet now was warm, not cold and salty. This passage brought you someplace within the Castle itself.

Absolutely brilliant.

He finally pushed it aside and then froze in place.

Ella sat on her bed with an almost smug smile on her face. “Took you long enough.”

He gestured behind him with his thumb, “That’s not an escape route?”

“It is if you go the other way.”

Arthur looked around him in disbelief. This had to be her quarters, right? It certainly looked like what he’d always imagined her quarters would look like. A big, fluffy bed with heaps of blankets and pillows, soft candlelight everywhere, even a gas fireplace. The floor had carpets strewn about on it and her general’s hat sat on a dresser.

“This is your room.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed, “Got it in one, slick.”

He finally shook off his confusion and stepped inside, closing the door behind him before letting the cloth fall back over it. From this side, it was clearly an oversized Minutemen banner tacked up on the wall. Of course. He set his lantern on a nearby table and finally turned his focus on her.

Ella was wearing some kind of pale dress. Long, thin straps, tiny buttons up the front of it. His head tilted a little as he studied it, “Pajamas?”

“Nightgown.”

“Ah.” He’d heard of those. Never seen one in action though and he was kind of starting to think he’d been missing out. The fabric was thin enough that he could see the silhouette of her legs when she got off the bed and walked toward him.

She stopped just a foot away and smiled up at him, “You wore your coat?”

“Oh.” He hurriedly shucked it off and shrugged, “I thought perhaps I’d end up outside. I...I assumed you were, I mean,  _ we _ were keeping this professional.”

“We are...so long as we’re in uniform.”

He chuckled, “I see.”

Ella stretched up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, “It was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be seeing you and having to pretend we’re just friends.”

Arthur picked her up, her legs going around his waist, and carried her to the bed, “Yes, it was...it still is.” Once he set her down, he placed her hand over his erection and groaned when she gently rubbed his cock through his pants. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Her lips just barely brushed against his. “We have to be extra quiet. Deacon’s right outside.”

The absurd compulsion to have her screaming his name so that asshole could hear it swept over him and he chuckled, “I can be quiet, but I don’t think you’ve ever been.”

“M’hmm.” Her hands swept into his pants and pushed them down over his hips. “Take these off.”

“Bossy.”

“Well, it is my Castle.”

Arthur laughed again, “Why would you think that would work? That never works when I say it on the Prydwen.”

Her hand wrapped around his exposed cock and she pumped him, giggling when he had to bury his face against her neck while he moaned to try and stay quiet. “Because I’m in charge there, too, silly.”

The truth of her words crashed over him and it was like his brain completely turned off. There was nothing left but a desire to make her happy. He kicked off his boots and shimmied out of his pants before laying next to her, a hand slipping between her legs and finding her slick and heated already. It felt like he could easily slip into her right now. That was unusual. Usually it took at least some time to prepare her. Arthur studied her face and narrowed his eyes a little.

“What exactly were you doing while you waited for me to get here?”

She grinned, cheeky and impish. “Well...I mean, can you blame me? I thought you’d gotten lost. Or you weren’t coming at all.”

“Naughty girl.” Ella giggled at him and he pouted a little, “I can’t believe I missed that.”

“I can’t either, you took forever.”

He huffed, “I was...busy. Working.”

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

“A dull,  _ sad _ boy.”

“Exactly.”

Arthur tugged the nightgown over her head and ran a possessive hand down her curves. “Show me?”

Her eyes went wide, all the laughter suddenly forgotten. “What?”

“I want to watch you.”

She blushed a little, “Next time.”

“Ella…”

“Next time. I promise.” Her mouth found his, her teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. She returned his hand to the junction of her thighs. “It’s just nowhere near as good as when you do it.”

There was just a hint of a whine in her voice. Enough to make him forget how hypothetically hot it would be to watch as his body reminded him how delicious it felt to slide into her. “Is that so?”

“M’hmm.”

His fingers pressed back into her and he marveled at how swollen she felt while he pumped them in and out. “Like this?”

Her nails dug into his shoulders and she burrowed against his chest, “Yes. Oh, God, yes.”

“Hmm.” He whispered in her ear, “I wanted to take you right there against the wall tonight. Just like I did the first time I kissed you.”

She looked up at him, cheeks pink and her eyes dark. “That’s really what you wanted to do that night?”

“Fuck yes.” Arthur spread his fingers inside her just a bit and she shuddered. “You were so beautiful and you felt so right pressed up against me. I’d thought about it for a while before then...came up with all sorts of scenarios to get you into my bed, but when the time came, I would have fucked you right through that door if you’d let me.”

“You really wanted me that much?”

He smirked down at her, “Ella, I always want you that much.”

Her eyes turned soft and she smiled, “Have I ever told you how handsome I think you are in your uniform?”

Arthur trailed kisses down her neck and slowly inched his way south. “No, you haven’t. I thought you hated it.”

She watched him and took one of his hands in hers, kissing his fingertips. “I don’t hate it. I just hate that you always have to wear it.”

“Hmm.” Differences in work ethics aside, it never failed to amaze him how compatible they were here. Once you stripped away their respective offices, they were remarkably in sync with each other, he thought. He paused at her breasts, nibbling at the sensitive peaks before continuing onward.

“I think you look like an absolute dream in it.”

That was an almost shockingly gentle way to put it and his head came up so he could look at her properly. “A dream?”

Her cheeks went a bit pink, “It’s an expression.” His eyebrow lifted and she huffed, “From my time, I guess.”

He was finally exactly where he wanted to be and nibbled at the thigh that was currently propped up right next to his head, his eyes never leaving her face. “What’s it mean?”

“I dunno, just that...you look very handsome, I guess. Like something out of a dream...I feel like it’s pretty self explanatory.”

“Do you dream of me, Ella?” What a wonderful thought.

“Sometimes.” There was something there, deep in her eyes. There and gone in a flash. “How could I not?”

Arthur couldn’t help but smile, and hid his face against her soft inner thigh. “I dream of you, too.” When she didn’t answer, his eyes flicked back up to her face. The troubled look that usually meant she was about to try to argue why they were hopelessly unsuited for each other had shown up. He didn’t want to deal with that tonight. One last kiss pressed to her thigh and then his mouth was against her core, nibbling and gratefully lapping up the juices she’d already coaxed from her own body while his fingers never ceased moving against her.

Ella’s head fell back and she moaned, louder than intended by the way she suddenly froze and clapped a hand over her mouth. Almost instantly, there was a knock at the door.

“Boss? You alright?”

Her eyes flew to his and he smirked a little at the panic there. Here was his one shot at epic revenge for her causing his voice to go two octaves too high when speaking with Kells. He’d made Cade come around for a wellness check and everything after that. Arthur completely ignored her signal to stop and wait, and instead replaced his fingers with his tongue, spreading her thighs apart and up with his hands and groaning softly at her taste.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to concentrate. “Yes, thank you, Deacon.”

He chuckled. She still sounded entirely too flustered.

There was a thoughtful pause, “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m...quite sure. Thank you.” Her hand anchored in his hair and tried to pull him up. Arthur carelessly batted her hand away and continued to drink his fill of her nectar. She growled softly and tried to shift away, but his hands held her firmly in place. He had her effectively pinned. There was no escape.

Just like he hadn’t been able to escape between her and the metal chair she’d trapped him in. Turnabout was fair play. She should know that. She was the fencer.

“You want me to read you a bedtime story? Tuck you in and all that?”

She sighed in exasperation, even as her hips had started to move with him. “No, I’m...indecent.”

He chuckled again at her choice of words and scooted up, lifting her with him until she had to drop her hands away from him entirely to help support herself while he continued his merciless onslaught.

She stared at him with wide, shocked eyes and hissed at him, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Aw, come on, Charm. I’ve seen you naked before...what little there is to see, anyway.” Deacon snickered through the door and her cheeks went bright red.

Arthur’s hands tightened on her hips and he narrowed his eyes at her.

Ella shook her head and whispered, “Nothing ever happened.” When his glare intensified and he started using a lot more teeth than was strictly necessary, she twisted in his grasp, trying futilely to get away before turning her attention back to the door and raising her voice. “That was  _ one time! _ You can’t keep holding that over my head forever! If you’d  _ told me _ that mirelurks shot acid at people, I wouldn’t have had to strip down in the first place!”

“Common knowledge, Shortstop.”

“Not so common in my day!”

“How is it my fault no one ever thought to tell you before you got around to meeting me?”

“Deacon!”

“Yes?”

_ “Good night!” _

Another thoughtful pause. “Alright. Good night, beautiful...don’t go to bed too late. Got a big day babysitting the Brotherhood of assholes ahead of us. You know how that always wears you out.”

Arthur frowned down at her. Is that really what she thought of them? He let her go suddenly, not feeling bad one little bit when she gasped in surprise and bounced down to the mattress. She’d been close. Right on the edge, but the game had soured for him. He sat at the foot of her bed, feeling awkward and very unwanted here in her inner sanctum.

Ella sat up and reached for his hand, the worry on her face growing when he pulled further away from her. She turned back to the door one last time, “Deacon?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“You’re a little chatty tonight. Take a walk.”

“Aw, are you seriously mad because I called you ‘Shortstop’? I’m sorry. I know you told me to stop and all --”

_ “Take a walk.” _ She was using her general voice and there was no room for argument.

Deacon sighed loud enough to clearly be heard, “Fine. I’ll see you in the morning...I’ll send another guard.”

“That’s fine.” They listened to the sounds of him walking away and then she turned to him. “What’s wrong? Is this about him seeing me naked? Because, let me tell you, there was absolutely nothing sexy happening in that scenario. He just likes to bring it up because he’s a jerk.”

Arthur folded his arms. It seemed the safest thing. “No, I don’t care if your subordinate has seen you naked.” Well...he did, truth be told, but that wasn’t the problem here.

“He’s not exactly my subordinate, actually.”

“It’s got nothing to do with Deacon.”

“Okay.” She scooted a little closer and he had to stay put or risk falling off the bed altogether. “So what’s wrong?”

“Do you hate the Brotherhood?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed in confusion, “No. Of course not. I like Danse and Cade and Neriah and...you, of course. More than like, even.”

“Not the people. The  _ Brotherhood.” _

“A nation  _ is _ its people.”

“Ella. Stop being obtuse.”

She sighed, “Okay...I don’t like how inflexible the Brotherhood is. I don’t like that you look at ghouls, who usually have a world of valuable contributions to make to society, and see only abominations. I don’t like that you see humans as the only rightful rulers of the earth when we’ve already demonstrated just how badly our arrogance can ruin things. I don’t like that you let your biases blind you to potential resources for making the world better for everyone...but I like  _ you. _ Quite a bit. And I like all my friends within the Brotherhood enough to set aside those concerns. Because if good people like you and the others can be Brotherhood, then it can’t be all bad.”

“Why did you even join then?”

Her head tilted a bit, “I actually didn’t, if you’ll remember. You sort of forced it on me.”

Arthur felt heat flood his face and scowled at her, “I would never.”

“No, you really did. I told you I had no interest in joining the Brotherhood, but you kept calling me a Knight anyway.” She shrugged, “I didn’t mind really. At the time, I assumed once the Institute was gone, you’d all leave so it wouldn’t matter one way or the other...but then you gave me that promotion and made me governor and...it kinda got away from me.”

He sat there in stunned silence. She was right. She’d all but thrown the rank of Knight back at him, mocked it for sounding ‘medieval’ right to his face. When she kept showing up, kept working with Danse and the others, he’d simply assumed that she’d been swept off her feet by the sheer magnificence that was the Brotherhood.

“I’ve made a fool out of myself.”

Her eyes went wide, “No! No, of course you haven’t!”

“Yes, I have...I took an outsider who had no interest in joining us and made her a Sentinel...and  _ then _ I made her governor of an entire region that we haven’t even properly annexed. I’ve made myself completely ridiculous.” There was a dull roaring in his ears and he felt like the entire world had suddenly stopped but he was still spinning. His eyes took her in, the way she glowed in the candlelight and her beguiling eyes. Things had been so much easier and understandable before they’d met. He’d been so sure of his place in the world, but now he was full of nothing but doubt and disorder. She'd infected him somehow. She was like a siren from the old legends, leading unwary men to their dooms with her song of freedom and unbridled joy. “What have you done to me?”

Tears filled her eyes and somehow made her that much more enthralling. “Arthur, please.”

Looking at her was too dangerous, so he averted his gaze. “I should go.”

“Please don’t.”

The pain in her voice was also dangerous. It made him want to wrap his arms around her and never let go. He took a deep breath and tried to harden his heart as much as he could. “Is this part of why you kept telling me we shouldn’t be together?” Had she been trying to save him from himself this entire time? Could she be an enchantress with a heart maybe? Had he just wanted this so much that he’d blinded himself to reality?

“No.” The unwavering honesty in that simple word made him look up at her again. It was a mistake. Tears were falling freely now and she was staring at him with that wonderful reckless resolve. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. “No, it’s not.”

He almost laughed. “So whatever’s on your list is  _ worse than this. _ Great. That’s...that’s great.” Fucking hell.

“Steel is supposed to be flexible, you know!”

Arthur frowned at her strange outburst, “What?”

“Humans got by perfectly well with iron for a very long time, but eventually we needed a metal that wouldn’t shatter under pressure. Something that would bend and flex and be  _ stronger  _ for it. That’s why we came up with steel...and then we spent hundreds of years improving upon it. We didn’t just let it be. We changed it to suit our needs. It eventually went from swords on ancient battlefields to cars and skyscrapers. The only reason any of the pre-war buildings here in Boston are still standing is because the steel bends in the wind. It moves with its environment. Not a lot, and no one’s asking it to! Just enough to endure the centuries.”

They stared at each other and his frown deepened, “You want me to  _ change _ the Brotherhood?”

“I want you to amend the Codex.”

His eyes went wide, “Are you mad?”

“Probably, but regardless of my mental health, it should be a living document, Arthur.  I really think that’s what your ancestors wanted...and I think as the last Maxson, you’re the only one who’s going to be able to do it.”

“The Codex has existed unchanged for over two hundred years.”

“Yes, and look where it’s gotten you! A war in California, a splinter group in Chicago, a missing chapter in the Mojave desert, the Eastern chapter nearly fell apart and absolutely would have if it had not been for you!”

“Exactly. It’s my duty to see that we reunify.”

“So do it right!”

“I plan to!”

“Do it in a way that ensures the whole thing won’t fall apart if you die, Arthur. Because that’s what’s going to happen if you let things stand as they are. You have to know that. Right now, everyone is eager to rally around you, and that’s great! But if you’re gone? That’s it. Show’s over.”

He honestly couldn’t tell if there was actual wisdom in her words, or if it was just the passionate way she was arguing with him combined with how alluring he found her. “Why are you telling me this now?”

That something from before was there again and this time she made no effort to hide it. Dark and sad and unknown. “Because I figured this is probably my last chance.”

“No matter what my feelings are, I can’t change the Codex just for you.”

“I would never ask you to. It should be changed so the Brotherhood can finally stop tearing itself apart. So you can  _ thrive _ in the new world. If you continue down this path, I truly think you’ll fall within your lifetime, and I think the only reason you can’t see that is because you’re too close to the situation.”

God damn, she was dangerous. No wonder she’d been the only one capable of destroying the Institute. His chest had started to ache. He had to get away from her. Arthur stood and straightened his shoulders, mentally wrapping his rank around himself, naked or not. “You have...given me much to think on. Thank you, General. I’ll see myself back to my room.” He gathered his pants off the floor and stepped into them.

“Please don’t go, Arthur.”

“I would appreciate it if you would address me as Elder Maxson from this point onward.” He felt his heart break as he said the words, but he’d finally done what had to be done. He couldn’t allow her to corrupt him further. Too many people counted on him. He still felt as though he’d love her until the day he died, but love could never be allowed to trump duty. That had been drilled into him his whole life. He shrugged into his coat in the suddenly too quiet room and dared not look at her.

His hand had just drawn the banner aside when a broken sob suddenly shattered the silence and some overpowering instinct forced him to turn toward her again. Something old and compelling on a cellular level that made him want to hurt whatever had hurt her.

But there was just him. Him and his empire that no one had even asked if he’d wanted. Hurting the only person he’d ever wanted to give his soul to.

Ella was curled up on herself, shaking with the effort to keep her crying muted. She looked small and defenseless in a way he’d never seen before. Even with her hands covering that beloved face, she was still almost unfairly beautiful.

He wondered if this is how Orpheus had felt when trying to bring his lost love, Eurydice, back out of Hades. Unable to fight the compulsion to look at her, even if it meant nothing but pain and heartache. Despite the clear lesson there as to what a terrible idea looking back was in general, he unthinkingly took a step toward her.

“Ella?”

She shook her head and curled into an even smaller ball.

Arthur hovered there, on the verge of leaving, and found himself frozen. He’d never been in a situation like this. She was clearly in pain. Clearly hurting nearly as much as he was, at least. He wasn’t entirely sure why, since she’d been very clear about what a casual relationship this was supposed to be from the start, but still. Her being upset like this was killing him.

On the other hand, her ideals were a threat to the Brotherhood’s very foundations and her entire self was a threat to his sanity.

His feet finally moved, carrying him back to her bed. This was madness, but he couldn’t just leave her drowning in sorrow like this. Arthur tried to set aside his own pain and sat back down, a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Ella, it will be alright. We’re...you’ve been very clear that we’re not...I mean…” He trailed off uselessly.

His own throat was starting to tighten and his eyes were wet. This wasn’t fair. If anything  _ she _ should be comforting  _ him. _ He was the one who’d fallen for her ages ago and was now going to have to figure out what to do with the broken pieces of his heart.

He could practically feel the ghost of Sarah Lyons breathing down his neck though in this moment. She’d always been so proud of what a gentleman he’d been. The first and only person to tell him the gentle soul he kept hidden behind layers of steel was a  _ good _ thing. That it would make him a better Elder and a better man. An unusual, but positive attribute in an environment that demanded strength and tenacity.  She’d never forgive him leaving a woman in distress like this.

Arthur pulled her upright and onto his lap, his arms wrapping tightly around her and rocking gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’ll wake up tomorrow and laugh at how silly this has all been.” Surely she would. She’d probably make a few jokes with Deacon about the disappointing rigidity of his life and that would be that. Ella, the unstoppable chaotic force, restored. Easy. And he’d go home and drown himself in whiskey until he forgot how she tasted...slightly less easy, but doable. Hopefully.

Her hands curled into the fabric of his coat and she shook her head again, too distraught for actual words.

He rubbed her back soothingly, “Sure you will. You’ve been telling me how ridiculous all this is from the start. What a bad idea it all was.” He tried to laugh but there was no joy in the sound. “You should be happy. I know how much you love being right.”

Another shake of her head, “I never wanted you to...to hate me.”

“Good God, is that you think?” He tilted her tear-stained face up and tried hard to give her a smile. “That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.” Her eyes were impossibly cerulean and he couldn’t look away. “I love you. You have to know that. I’ve always...I’ve always loved you.” This was the one thing he’d never intended to tell her, but she’d been right earlier. This might be their last chance to say such things to each other. His thumb brushed a tear off her cheek and then he slipped his hand in his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it against her face. “Here. Blow.”

Ella blinked at him for a moment and then used her own hands to hold the cloth in place while she blew her nose. She took a minute to clean her face up and then settled back against his chest, a little calmer and quieter now. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Minutes ticked by and she eventually sighed, “I’m sorry I’m so selfish...I’m sure this is awkward for you and you probably want to get back to your room and away from me, but…I just can’t.” Her fingers tightened on his coat.

Arthur chuckled, “You aren’t the selfish one. I’m the one hoping this moment never ends.” It was painful and terrible, but this suspended space between them being lovers and being nothing was all he had left. Like a lover’s purgatory.

“Do you think...in another reality, we could have --”

“Yes. Absolutely.” A quiet place for them somewhere, full of laughter and children and love. He clung to the dream even as his heart begged him to let it go. “At least now you can find someone better suited. Someone you won’t have to keep as many secrets from who’s free to choose you every time. That’s what you deserve.”

“I hate this.”

“I do, too.”

“Why can’t we just be Ella and Arthur?”

Fuck that would be wonderful. “Now there’s a grand idea. Just shuck everything else and run off into the sunset together.”

“How are you so  _ calm _ right now?”

“The dead are typically calm.” She almost laughed, and he smiled against her hair. “It’s true. I am now completely dead inside. If you hold my heart up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean.”

“Then we can be zombies together.”

“I’d like that.”

“Arthur?”

He winced. Hearing his name from her lips was one of those things he’d miss like his lungs would miss oxygen if he stopped breathing. A smarter man would correct her, reinforce the line and maintain some semblance of distance. He could not. He’d always been a fool for her. “Ella?”

“Will you stay? Just one last time. Please?”

He screwed up his face, trying to fight back tears and shook his head. “You ask too much.”

“I know.”

“If I stay...I...don’t know if I could...I mean, I don’t think I’m strong enough to make it final, Ella. I just can’t. You’re just too...if I stay...I’ll fall.” The words tumbled out and he had no idea if he’d made any kind of sense to her with his babbling.

She turned in his lap suddenly, straddling him on her knees and stared right in his eyes. “So fall.”

“What?”

“I...I’ve always known this was a bad idea. That there was only one way it could end and that was in disaster. The only thing that’s changed is now you know, too, right?” She shook her head, “I don’t care anymore. I really don’t. I...even if we’re going down in flames, I want to go down with you. I’m tired of always worrying about the consequences.”

“You’d still have your secrets and I’d still have the Brotherhood.”

“I don’t care. I just want to be happy. Don’t you want to be happy?”

“Of course I do.”

“Don’t I make you happy?”

Happy, terrified, infatuated, reckless, dangerous. “Yes, you do.”

“You make me happy, too.”

That was news to him. Arthur frowned at her, “I do?”

“Of course you do!”

But she didn’t love him. Even after he’d finally said it out loud, she hadn’t reciprocated. “Ella...if it’s just sex --”

“No! It’s not.” She finally looked away from him, her eyes sorrowful and full of pain. “I...I know what you want me to say, but...even if I said it, it wouldn’t change anything. We’d still have all these...obstacles between us, and I’ve thought and thought about it, but there’s just no resolving it. We’d have to be completely different people in a completely different situation for this to end well.”

“We’d still have an expiration date.”

“Yes.”

“You know...somewhere, in another universe, there’s a very lucky me and you.”

She smiled a little, “Yes, there is. That’s a nice thought.”

“This is why you’ve always held yourself back, isn’t it? You knew it would hurt this much when it ended.”

“I’ve been around the block a time or two, Arthur. I know how it usually goes and I just wanted to avoid that this time. I thought...I really thought I could with you, but...”

Hope was slowly filling his heart again. It was painful, too. “But?”

“But I guess I’m just not wired that way.” Her smile was sad and self-deprecating. “Guess I really am an old-fashioned kinda girl.”

A girl, or an impossible to resist seductress? He still wasn’t entirely sure. “I’ve...cherished every second we’ve had together. I don’t want it to end like this.”

“I don’t either.”

“So who says it has to?”

“That was you, dearest. Ten minutes ago.”

He shook his head, “No, that was Elder Maxson...and I am so tired of being Elder Maxson every fucking second of my life.”

A line appeared between her brows, “What are you saying?”

He had no earthly idea. “I’m saying,  _ fuck that guy. _ Fuck Elder Maxson and his complicated shit...and fuck General Bradley, too.”

“Excuse me?” She looked as shocked as he felt.

“Ella and Arthur, right? That’s all you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but --”

“No. No ‘buts’. I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I, Arthur the man, love you, Ella. Just you. There’s no reason we can’t just be us when we’re together.”

“There are a million reasons.”

“Fuck those, too.”

“Arthur, this is crazy. You don’t sound like yourself right now.”

“You’re wrong. I think for the first time ever I  _ do _ actually sound like myself.” One of his hands slipped to the small of her back and pulled her closer as his other hand slid into her hair. “I have spent my entire life setting aside every selfish thing I’ve ever wanted for the greater good. I can’t set you aside, too.”

She still seemed sad, even leaning into his touch. “You’ll still have to one day. Our lives just...aren’t compatible.”

“Then I want this right up until that day. If us being apart is going to feel like this, if it’s going to kill me where I stand to finally let you go, I want to put that day off as long as possible...and I don’t care if that makes me a selfish coward.”

“I don’t think that makes you a coward.” She was looking at him like he was the finest man she’d ever known and he could feel the pride seeping into his bones.

Arthur’s lips just brushed against hers and he whispered, “I love you, and you don’t have to say it back. You can just kiss me if you feel the same way.”

Her kiss was all the answer he needed.

He let her press him back against her bed and worked on shrugging back out of his coat. Once his arms were finally free, he wrapped them back around her and rolled them closer to the middle of the bed, her under him finally, right where she belonged.

This was all they needed. It was all they ever needed. Just each other. Everything else was secondary. It felt a little like defying the gods, and he was all for it tonight. Reality could just wait a moment. His duties and responsibilities and all her secrets could just sit the fuck down for however long this bubble of Elysium they’d created between them lasted. He’d already spent twenty-two years of his life giving his all for the Brotherhood. Surely to God it could give him a few more months of happiness.

Her hands slid down his stomach and tugged his pants down far enough that his cock could spring free. She immediately pressed the swollen head against her folds and Arthur broke free from their kiss.

“Don’t we need to --”

“No. Now, Arthur. Please.”

The desperation in her voice overrode any token protest he may have made for extended foreplay and he kissed her again, letting her guide him into her pussy. There was resistance, almost immediately, and he paused. He’d always made an extra effort to be careful and gentle with Ella, even when he was lost in the feel of fucking her. It felt strange to just shove himself inside, but then her nails were sinking into the flesh of his ass, pulling him down and impaling herself on his shaft. She was unbearably tight around him and he couldn’t imagine that it could possibly feel as good for her as it did for him. Almost staggeringly delicious. Hot and swollen and just enough silky fluid coating his cock to make it work. There was something darkly satisfying about it. But still, this was her and he loved her more than anything, even more than the intoxicating feeling of invading her body, stretching it until it accommodated him fully.

He tore his lips away from her again, “We should slow down.”

Her legs wrapped around his hips and brought him even closer as she whimpered. “Don’t.” Ella wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard as she rose up off the bed, still straining to take more of him. “Don’t slow down. I need it.”

He shivered again. This right here was how she was dangerous. She always said things that he was pretty sure were terrible ideas, and he always wanted to do them anyway. His hips moved carefully against hers. Arthur was determined to be sensible at least here. They may have thrown caution to the wind and all, but if he fucked her like she apparently wanted him to, he very much doubted she’d be comfortable for their meeting in the morning.

People might ask questions if they saw the general walking funny all day. The idea of her parading around in her uniform, in command and outwardly dignified while his come slowly dripped out of her was already enough to make him crazy. She didn’t need to just…

Ella was suddenly right next to his ear, nibbling away at his sanity like she always did. “Make me yours.”

Something snapped in his brain and a new, powerful, possessive feeling bloomed in him. Whatever pale affection he’d thought he’d felt before was suddenly magnified a thousand fold. He tore her arms from around his neck and slammed them against the mattress, snarling against her neck and suddenly not caring about anything but this moment. The universe shrank down until there was nothing but them in bed, his thrusts shaking the world around them.

Her fingers intertwined with his and he felt her nails prick the back of his hands as she arched up against him. “Yes, just like that. Oh, please…”

“You  _ are _ mine.” His teeth scored against her flesh, “You’ll always be mine. No matter what happens, no matter how far apart we’re pulled,  _ you are mine.” _ He felt her pulse around him and groaned, slowing down just enough to roll his hips against her at the apex of each thrust to appreciate the feel of her racing towards completion. “Say it.” He finally sank his teeth into her throat, growling at the tiny sound of protest she made before it turned into a moan and ran right through him.

“I’m yours. Oh, God, I’m yours. I’m…” Ella sucked in a quick breath and then her body went rigid under his, her pussy suddenly undulating along his length relentlessly.

Arthur managed to cover her mouth with his before she screamed in ecstasy, but only just. His hands left hers to wrap around her trembling body while he kept pumping into her, his own orgasm just barely out of reach. Her clawing at him, frantic to get as close as possible, finally did it. He surged up into her, forceful enough that she would have slid away from him if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on her, and pressed as hard and deep as he could while his essence pumped into her.

He buried his face against her neck, shuddering at each new eruption. He still had the instinct to bare his teeth and mark her further, but a touch of mindfulness was already starting to reassert itself, and he chuckled a little when his eyes landed on the clear bite mark on her neck, already turning dark.

At least her uniform had that prim little collar. They might actually get away with it.

She was panting right in his ear, pressing little kisses along his jaw whenever she had breath enough to do so. When he tried to ease off her, her legs tightened and held him in place.

Arthur managed to lean back enough to look at her, “You can’t be serious.”

Her eyes sparkled in the low light, “Again.”

“Weren’t you the one who said we should all get to bed early?”

“I only said that so we’d have time for this.”

He grinned wickedly at her, “You are a terrible influence.”

“Good.” She grinned back, “That’s the idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I've made the executive decision that this story is going to have a lot more than ten chapters.
> 
> Like, a lot a lot. 👍
> 
> Apologies if you aren't into romantic epics, cause we're totally going there.


	10. Article 9 - Culture Clash

At seven sharp, there was a polite knock on his door. “Elder Maxson?”

Arthur looked up from his notes. Despite his very late (or early, depending on how you looked at things) bedtime, he’d risen at five-forty, like always. Sneaking through the passage back to Ella’s room for a morning workout had been tempting, but ultimately he decided against it. God knew he needed a few hours to get his head on straight, and he was sure she felt the same way.

Their evening spent together, first in passionate arguing and then in passionate everything else, had worn him out body and soul. He had to assume it had done the same to her.

So instead of slipping back into bed with her, as tempting as it was, he did his regular exercises, took a shower, made sure his uniform was pristine and polished, and then reread Elder Short’s file a few times so he’d be fresh and ready to go once the man arrived.

He moved over to the door and raised his voice, “Yes?”

“It’s Preston, sir. Would you care to join us for breakfast, or would you rather a tray be brought?”

Breakfast did sound good...and eating with the Minutemen was sure to be entertaining. He unlocked the door and smiled at the lieutenant waiting outside, “I’ll come with you. Just let me grab my coat.”

“Sure.” He smiled and took a few steps back. “I hope the room was up to your standards.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded sarcastic, but he was fairly certain Preston didn’t even know how to use sarcasm with how earnest and forthright he always was. “It was great. Thank you.” What little time he’d actually spent there, anyway. He stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him before they headed out.

“I think the general was really worried that you wouldn’t like it.”

Interesting. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she insisted on getting it ready for you herself.”

He almost chuckled but kept his face impassive, “That was very thoughtful of her.”

“She’s a very thoughtful person.” Preston paused and turned to him, “I uh...well, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but I’m concerned about her. I think she’s a lot more worried about this meeting than she’s letting on.”

Even if he was, and even if she was, this was hardly something a second should share with another faction leader. He was almost disappointed in the man. “Oh.”

Preston shook his head, “I wouldn’t say anything except you might be the only person who can help.”

Arthur felt very nervous suddenly. Had Deacon figured things out and then immediately tattled to all and sundry? “Why would I be able to help?”

He blinked at him, “Well...because you’re on equal footing with her. You can talk to Ella without her feeling like she has to be the leader, right? An Elder telling the General that things will be alright would probably carry a lot more weight than if I tried to say it.”

Oh. Oh, well… “That’s...probably correct. I’ll speak with her, if you think it will help.”

Relief shone through his smile and he nodded, “Thank you, Elder Maxson. Thank you. That would be...great. Just...thanks.”

Arthur smiled back. It was nice to know that Ella had such a thoughtful, insightful second at her side. “You’re welcome, Lieutenant.”

“Please, feel free to call me Preston. Or Garvey...we don’t really use titles very much around here.”

He chuckled, “I have noticed that.”

They headed out once again and walked a few paces in companionable silence before he spoke. “It’s just...Deacon said he thinks she had trouble sleeping last night, and she only does that when she’s really stressing out.”

Or when she’s busy wrapped around him, of course. Arthur cleared his throat, “Understandable. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s true. I used to...I mean, in the early days, before we got the Castle and all, we traveled together a lot. She always had a hard time getting to sleep then. There was...a lot going on. The world was just so different for her.”

“M’hmm.”

“I guess that never really changed. Ella came up from the vault, hit the ground running and I don’t think she’s ever really stopped.” Garvey frowned to himself, “Back then, though, I was...well, I helped her get to sleep so I knew she was well rested, at least.”

His hands briefly flexed into fists before he could stop them. “Oh?”

“It’s...well, it’s probably pretty silly.” He had the good grace to look embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d sing her to sleep.”

Arthur’s head tilted in confusion, “Sing?”

The sheepish look grew, “Yeah, I um...it’s something I do sometimes if I’m not paying attention. I’ll whistle or sing. It’s silly, and a bad habit, I guess. Especially when you’re out in the field. Ella liked it, though, so I’d...you know, just...she always said it was too dark and too quiet to sleep, so...” He shrugged.

“Hmm.” That was a lot better than what he’d thought might have happened. Kind of sweet, really. He was pretty sure Garvey was slightly dazzled by his commanding officer, but who could blame the man? “I’m sure she appreciated that.”

He smiled, “She did. She always thanked me in the morning. It’s different though, now. I stay here and she mostly stays on the island. They’re always so busy over there. We don’t get to spend as much time together as you’d think anymore.”

Yes, absolutely dazzled. Still, it seemed like one of those innocent crushes often developed by devoted subordinates. Some people couldn’t help but confuse healthy respect and admiration for a superior officer for deeper feelings. Happened all the time. Certainly it was better than whatever it was Deacon actually felt for her.

Arthur smiled at him, “What was she like, if you don’t mind my asking? When she first woke up, I mean. I imagine it must have been a difficult adjustment.” He’d always wanted to ask her directly, but couldn’t stand how somber and dark her eyes got whenever she thought about the past.

Preston nodded, “It was. Ella used to talk about the things she missed all the time. Orange juice, coffee shops, libraries, cars, _new_ mattresses.” He chuckled, “She eventually stopped though. I guess she came to terms with things, or it just got too hard to dwell on. She’s actually very pragmatic, deep down. A lot of people don’t see it because she’s always so ah...high-spirited, but she really is. Once we started adding settlements to our ranks and helping people, she just seemed to turn her focus to that.”

High-spirited was probably the nicest way anyone could possibly think to describe the whirlwind of activity and emotions that was Ella. “Her work across the Commonwealth is certainly admirable. The Minutemen are lucky to have her as their general.”

“That we are! Best day of my life was when she came walking into Concord.” He started a bit, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just said. “I mean...the best day for _all_ of us. Not just me. She’s...well, she doesn’t ever back down. She always fights as hard as she can to do what’s right for everyone and I’m glad that she...she found her way. She was so lost and...confused, I guess, when I first got to know her, but now she’s found a purpose and it makes me very glad.” He smiled at Arthur, “If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s her.”

“I agree.” Which is why he was going to do everything in his power to make sure she stayed happy as long as possible. “Do you think I should speak to her in private? Before the meeting?”

“Yes! Yes, that would be...that’d be great! I guess she was a little uh...snappy? With Deacon last night? He’s been stewing over it ever since.”

Arthur smirked just for a second, then hid it away. “I’ll speak with her before we eat.”

“Great!”

They entered the Minutemen’s mess hall and Arthur took a deep breath. Whatever standard rations they provided their troops smelled a million times better than anything that had ever been served to Brotherhood soldiers. Danse was already at a table, happily ignoring his heaping plate in favor of staring moon-eyed at Cait who, surprisingly enough, didn’t seem to mind it. Garvey headed straight for the chow line, but Arthur paused and looked around for Ella. It didn’t seem like she’d arrived yet. He spotted Xavier, standing impassive as ever by the entrance, but no Deacon, either.

He frowned to himself. The man had said he’d see her in the morning, hadn’t he? So was he grilling her somewhere as to what had happened in her private quarters the night before? Or was it worse than that?

All he knew for certain was, wherever Ella was, Deacon would likely be there, too.

That was enough to make him abruptly turn on his heel and head down the long hallway, towards her quarters. His boots clicked smartly on the stone floor and the Minutemen he passed moved aside instinctively, his obvious irritation creating a wake of sorts around him. Had he been on his own turf, he’d already have an army at his back, but since these weren’t his men, they instead just nodded respectfully and seemed to scurry out of his way. Which worked just fine for him.

He was about to turn the corner that would put him right by her door when he heard slightly raised voices and stopped.

“It’s none of your business, Deacon.”

“Now you know better than that. It’s a hundred percent my business if it involves you.”

“Really? Because the last time I checked, you didn’t own me.”

He sighed irritably, “You know it’s not about that, Charm. I’m...concerned, is all. You’ve been acting weird lately. Disappearing on me. That’s not like you.”

“Don’t you have enough on your plate without stalking me? _Still?_ I thought we were past that.”

“We’re never going to be past that, gorgeous.”

“Oh, that’s comforting.”

He chuckled softly, “Come on, El...don’t shut me out. Please? You used to confide in me, you know.”

“Am I not allowed to have anything that’s just for me? Can’t you just let it go and let me have this?”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“Well, you’re acting like you’re jealous. Green isn’t a good color on you.”

There was a long, heavy silence before he spoke. “Do I have anything to be jealous about?”

“Of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re still my best friend...unless you feel otherwise.”

“Everything’s still golden over here.”

“Okay, well, then, there you go.”

“I just wish you’d talk to me. If you’re just super stressed or something, I could help with that, you know.”

There was an odd sound, as though clothes were rustling and she huffed, “If you keep this up, you’re going to rumple me.”

“So you’ll be rumpled...they’ll probably just assume I couldn’t keep my hands off you, as usual.”

Ella laughed and it was just a touch breathless, “Since when are you ever happy with people assuming the truth? _Ah!”_ She moaned a little, “Mmm, yes. Right there, please.”

Roaring fury flared up within him and Arthur stomped around the corner, death and vengeance written in every line on his face. Deacon had his arms wrapped tightly around Ella, rubbing the back of her neck with his hand like she was a cat. Ella’s eyes were almost closed, a blissful kind of smile on her face. Then she noticed him and jumped.

“Oh! Ar...Elder Maxson!”

Deacon’s face instantly morphed into that Cheshire cat smirk he usually wore, and he shifted positions, pulling her even closer to his body, one large hand on the small of her back and the other cradling her jaw. “Hey, buddy...you mind?”

Arthur was too furious to say anything, but Ella glared up at him, “Deacon!”

He moved his head down and Arthur knew he was nibbling on her ear from the way she shivered, “Hmm?”

She lightly smacked his hands away, “Go find something useful to do. For once.”

An almost absurdly sexy pout crossed his face, “But you’re such a delicious little snack and I’m still hungry.”

“Keep it up, funny man, and I’ll sic Glory on you.”

Deacon laughed and let her go, ruffling her hair. _“Oh!_ It has been a while since we had a threesome with her...maybe we should wait for my birthday though. Make it extra special.” He gave Arthur a knowing, downright lewd kind of smirk and sarcastically saluted him as he wandered past. “Nice seeing you again, Artie.”

Ella raised her voice a little, “This is why people don’t like you!” When his only response was a careless wave over his shoulder, she huffed and finally turned her attention to Arthur. “Hey...um, good morning.”

“Good morning.” At least, it had been. He folded his arms, “What, exactly, is the nature of your relationship with that man?”

She sighed and smoothed her hair back into place, “Well, we’re _supposed_ to be best friends...although I have no idea why some days. I really don’t.”

“Does he often...touch you like that?”

“I guess.” She shrugged, “He’s just...it’s been like, twenty years since he’s had a friend, so he’s a little…” 

“Inappropriate?”

“I was going to say touch starved, but that probably works, too.” She laughed softly at his irate grumbling and smiled, “If I may, Elder Maxson, _sir,_ you look quite dashing in your uniform this morning.”

He glared down at her while she batted her eyelashes at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Thank you. Someone once described it as ‘dreamy’.”

“Well, that someone sounds delightful.” She grinned at him, “So, what um...what brings you here? It’s almost eight, you know.”

“Preston was concerned that you weren’t sleeping well last night and asked me to talk to you.”

She blinked, “He did?”

“M’hmm.” Arthur stepped back a bit, “What are you wearing?” The dark blue dress with it’s silver sash and shiny brass buttons going all the way up to a high collar was quite becoming, but didn’t look a thing like any uniform he’d ever seen.

“Oh! Do you like it? I kind of feel like a majorette.” She twirled for him and dropped a quick curtsy, just like she had the night of the ball. “I was going to show you last night, but...well…”

He grinned at her, “Yes, we were a trifle...distracted, for clothes.”

“Exactly what I was going to say.”

“So what is it?”

“It’s what I came up with for my role as official liaison. Since I’m not technically wearing any rank during the meeting, I wanted to make sure that was perfectly clear.”

“I thought you were acting as the general today, as the host.”

“Technically, Preston is the host since he’s truly neutral. I’m just sort of between the three groups all at once.” She smiled brightly up at him, “I’m like a cultural attaché today.”

“Ah.”

“So why was Preston worried about me sleeping, exactly?”

He shrugged, “Deacon said something to him about it and he’s apparently been fretting over it ever since. He thought you we would be more inclined to listen to the assurances of an Elder than him.”

“Oh, isn’t that silly? I always listen to him.”

“Like that time in Diamond City when you jumped off the roof even though he very clearly told you not to?”

“Well, I _listen,_ but that doesn’t mean I have to do everything he says.”

“M’hmm...so clearly Deacon’s suspicious. Should we be worried about that?”

Ella sighed, “I don’t know. He’s suspicious of everyone, all the time, but...he’s a little overprotective of me, I guess. He told me he doesn’t like how you look at me.”

His eyebrow went up, “And how do I look at you?”

“According to him, like you want to kidnap me and chain me to your bed.”

Arthur nodded, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Now, see, I just vouched for you and everything. I told him you didn’t strike me as the whips and chains type.”

He grinned, “I’m not opposed to corporal punishment.”

“Funny.”

“I’m starting to sense a theme with your friend, though. Didn’t he once suggest I was going to spank you, too?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Then either he’s entirely too into that sort of thing, or he has a very skewed view of the Brotherhood.”

“Half a dozen of one, six of the other.”

He chortled a little, “We should probably get going if you want to eat anything before this meeting.”

A wicked sort of look crossed her face and was gone in a flash, replaced by that innocent, wide-eyed expression she wore so well. “Goodness, I _am_ awfully hungry this morning.” She stepped closer to him, slipping her hand under his coat and caressing his cock through his uniform. It at once stirred to life and that guileless smile only grew. “Aren’t you?”

How anyone could manage to look so angelic while doing something so incredibly improper, he would never know. “We have, at best, a half hour.”

Ella’s head tilted, “That’s ten minutes to eat, at least. Plenty of time.”

Arthur struggled to keep his head and worried his lip for a moment, “Weren’t you just worried about being rumpled?”

“Yes, but now I’m more worried about being distracted by you throughout the day...you are staying the night, aren’t you?”

“We’d planned to, yes.”

“Thank God.” She stepped back a moment and made a point to raise her voice a little, “Oh, Elder Maxson, I almost forgot! Would you mind stepping into my quarters for just a moment? There’s something in Elder Short’s file I was hoping you could clarify for me.” She pivoted away and opened the door to her room, gesturing kindly to him. “After you.”

Arthur grinned at her conspiratorially for a moment before clearing his throat and straightening his shoulders, putting on his best Elder mien for anyone who might be listening in. “Of course, General Bradley. I’d be delighted.”

He barely managed to get all the way in before she’d shut and locked the door behind him and started stripping off his coat. “We don’t have time to take everything off.”

“That’s probably for the best.” Because if she were naked, he’d want to keep her that way, and then they’d really be in trouble. He dropped his coat carelessly on the floor and swept her up into his arms. The bed was far too dangerous, too. It’s gravitational pull alone could keep them here for hours. “Where?”

She giggled and pointed, “The desk.”

“Perfect.”

He quickly carried her over and deposited her next to it before working on undoing his uniform. Fabric rustling caused him to look up and he frowned. She had her dress up over her head, clearly struggling with the shiny material. “I thought you said we had to keep our clothes on!”

“Not my dress! It’s silk! Stuff wrinkles like crazy!”

He helped her tug the thin fabric over her head and then frowned down at her while she carefully set it aside. “You have a dress on under your dress?”

Ella laughed, “No, this is just my underwear, silly.”

It certainly looked like a whole other dress. Soft, smooth white fabric with a fluffy kind of skirt underneath. It did solve the mystery of how her skirts always looked so swishy when she walked though. She hopped up onto the desk and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him while she pushed his uniform off his shoulders. Arthur shrugged out of the leather and let it pool around his hips. He wanted to bury his fingers in her hair, but settled for skimming along the smooth, delicate skin of her neck and shoulders since it was all he had access to. He was about to say to hell with it all and rip off the rest of her clothes when she suddenly pushed him back and slid off the desk, kissing him hard one last time before turning around and bending over it, wiggling enticingly at him while he chuckled.

“That isn’t necessary, you know. It never has been.” He flipped her petticoat up over her back and puzzled over the complicated final layer of underwear covering her ass. He’d never seen ruffled panties before.

“I know, I just like how your face looks when I do it.”

He laughed and ran a hand over her ass, “What um...what should I do here?” There was a belt of some sort attached to stockings that went over the panties. He honestly had no idea how to get it all off with the limited time they had.

She wriggled impatiently, “Just move them to the side.”

Arthur hooked a finger into the panties and paused, “They’ll get messy if we do this.”

“Good.”

His eyes met hers and she just smirked at him until he grinned and did as she commanded, moving the pristine fabric aside and pushing a finger deep inside her. Ella let it push her forward a bit before she leaned back against it, moaning softly and setting her forehead on the desk. Arthur watched her fucking his hand for a moment, feeling the anticipation building in his stomach and thoughtlessly pumping his cock, before adding another finger. She was still swollen from the night before, when he’d taken her more times than he could count, still slippery and full of his come.

He grinned, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think someone was a _very_ naughty girl last night.”

Ella giggled and pressed back harder against his hand, “Arthur, hurry.”

Right. The clock. They had to keep it quick. There’d be time later to really indulge and take her all the ways he wanted to. Arthur removed his hand from her and held her panties aside while he pushed his cock into her lush folds, groaning as her body seemed to grasp at his and pull him deeper inside.

He pressed as deep as he could, gripping the opposite of the desk for leverage. She was completely as his mercy in this position. Her feet, still in the heeled shoes she wore for special occasions, could only just touch the floor. Arthur settled a hand on her hip to keep her from slipping and held her firmly in place while he thrust into her. The blazing heat of her succulent pussy felt like it was radiating through him and he could already feel his orgasm coiling at the base of his spine. Even so, he couldn’t make himself slow down.

“Ah, fuck, sweetheart. Fuck, I’m...I’m already…”

She shuddered under his grip and her body pulsed around him, “I know...don’t stop.”

His cock jerked in response and he gave up trying to hold back. He pounded into her, lost in the feel of how wicked it all was, and suddenly he was erupting inside her once again. He felt her legs open further, trying to bring him even closer and he leaned over her body, whispering in her ear.

“Is that what you were hungry for, angel?”

She looked back at him and squirmed on the desk, “Yes...Arthur, please? Please, it’s right there.”

He was still spilling into her, slower now, but the spurts no less powerful than the first few eruptions. His hand slipped under her and he gently rubbed her clit while he flexed against her, “Oh, I know it is. I know. You always come so hard for me, don’t you?” She gasped and he felt her tighten around him. “M’hmm. There you go. There you go, sweetheart. Just think of how wet and messy you’re going to be all day today. Do you think you’ll feel it? Feel my come sliding out of you slowly while we’re busy fulfilling our duties?” He pressed nice and deep and chuckled, “It’s going to be so fucking hard to sit there across from you and pretend like I’ve never tasted  this little pussy. Never seen you beg to come on my cock...and I promise, if you’re a good girl and act the part all day, I’m going to make you come until you scream tonight. I don’t care who’s listening in.”

That did it. He felt the pressure spiral and then burst within her and she spasmed under his hold, her pussy rippling around him and he pressed little kisses down her neck, whispering words of encouragement and devotion until she finally fell limp under his weight, panting heavily.

Arthur slid out of her, carefully moving her panties back in place before any of his come could escape. He did like the idea of her walking around full of him the entire day. He couldn’t really say why. Maybe it was how everyone else seemed to view her as this unassailable model of virtue and purity while only he knew the true her that existed under the uniform. It was all rather delicious, actually.

He glanced at the clock on her dresser and helped her up before setting himself to rights. They still had twenty minutes. Five to get to the mess hall and fifteen to eat. Plenty of time.

Ella giggled breathlessly at him, “Do I look as ravaged as I feel? Because I feel pretty ravaged.”

He retrieved his coat from the floor and shook it out, “Yes, but I’m pretty sure others will just see it as nerves.”

“Oh, good.” She ran her hands through her hair and then shook it out a little. “Hair check?”

“You’re good.” He held up her dress, “Here, arms up.”

She let him help her back into her dress and smoothed the skirt out a little before working on the buttons. “Alright...well...aside from my panties being wet, I think we’re going to be alright.” The sash went on next and she was suddenly right back to being General Bradley, beloved wasteland madonna and venerated savior of the Commonwealth.

Arthur chuckled, “Couldn’t be helped. It was that or come all over your pretty dress.”

“You made the right call.” She took his coat and pushed him along into her private washroom. “You should clean up a little.”

He made a face, “If I must.”

Ella grinned, “Duty calls, right? You can’t very well charm Elder Short if you’re distracted by your uniform sticking to you.”

She certainly had a point there. He grabbed a washcloth and quickly scrubbed himself down, wiping away any trace of their encounter. Ella helped him back into his coat and smoothed the fabric over his shoulders.

“There. You look like the Elder again.”

“Thank you.” He finished buckling his collar and took her in, “And you look…” His head tilted a little. “Delicious.” She really did. Like a frosted cupcake just begging you to lick the icing off. “You’re going to be a distraction today. I can already tell.”

She laughed, “That’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it? Now come on.” They headed out and she shut the door behind them. “Thank you, Elder Maxson, for taking the time to explain the Brotherhood ranking system to me.”

He blinked at her in confusion before remembering their earlier ruse. “Oh...yes, well, it can be a bit tricky to understand all the finer points if you weren’t brought up in it.”

Her smile was perfectly impersonal and polite, “If I may ask, what was your rank before you became Elder...sir?”

Arthur smiled back pleasantly, “I was a Knight-Commander at the time.”

“And there was no one of higher rank who would have been more suitable as Elder?”

This again. She was never going to get over him being ‘drafted’ by the Western elders. “Unfortunately, no. There were officers of higher rank, but none of them had been formally trained in leadership like I was.”

“Oh, I see.”

“El!”

They abruptly stopped and Ella turned towards one of the outer doors, “Mac? I didn’t know you’d be here today.”

The lanky merc came into view and immediately scowled at Arthur. “Yeah...Duncan missed Curie, so I brought him.”

She smiled, “Oh, isn’t that sweet.” She turned back to the elder for a moment, “You met Curie at the ball, right?”

He tried to not immediately get his back up under the man’s scrutiny and nodded, “Yes, of course.”

“She and Mac were married last week.”

Despite his best efforts at composure, he felt his eyes go wide, “Excuse me?”

“Curie and Mac. I officiated!” She beamed proudly, “My first time, you know. It was very exciting.”

He couldn’t imagine what a brilliant scientist could possibly see in a scruffy hired gun like MacCready, but he managed to nod anyway. “That is exciting.” Arthur smiled at Mac, “Congratulations.”

Mac’s eyes narrowed, “Uh-huh.” He stepped closer to Ella and completely ignored him. “Everyone is looking for you. You know how you get if you don’t eat and Preston’s about to pop a blood vessel if he doesn’t see you have something.” He pulled a partially wrapped biscuit with egg and cram sandwiched between its layers from his pocket. “Here. If you walk in with this, you might avoid another lecture.”

“Oh, Mac! I could kiss you!” She took the biscuit and took a large bite, hurriedly swallowing before continuing, “I really was starving!”

His face scrunched up, “Don’t be gross, boss. Nobody wants to kiss you.”

Arthur all but glowered at him, but Ella just laughed, “I know, I know.”

“I mean, you look like a munchkin.”

“Thank you, Mac.”

“It would be weird, right? I mean...from behind, especially, you look like a shrimpy little kid.”

She sighed, “I suppose so.”

Oblivious to the elder’s growing ire, he thumped her on the back. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe someday you’ll find a leprechaun or something out there. Somebody who doesn’t mind you being a half-pint.”

“Yes, thank you, _Robert.”_

He laughed, “Alright, alright. I’ll stop...good luck with your meeting or whatever.”

Arthur watched him go back into the courtyard, nearly sputtering with rage. “Well now I know where your erroneous assumptions about your attractiveness came from.”

She munched on her biscuit and rolled her eyes a bit. “He’s not wrong, though.”

“Of course he is!”

“Arthur, nearly every time I come on board the Prydwen, Kells mistakes me for a squire and I get yelled at for not being in uniform. You know that, right?”

They continued on towards the mess hall and he frowned thoughtfully to himself. She was petite, sure, but even the first day they met, he’d known she wasn’t a child. What was wrong with people?

“I’ll have a word with him.”

She shook her head, “Not necessary. It’s actually kind of funny, really. You should see his face whenever I turn around and he realizes who he’s dressing down. Especially now that I’m a Sentinel.”

“You look like a woman. No matter what you’re wearing.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you think so.”

He muttered, “Anyone with half a brain would think so.” It seemed to Arthur that her friends had either turned her into a symbol for righteousness or kept her infantilized in their heads. It was infuriating.

Ella laughed, “Alright. Rein it in a little.” They finally came into the doorway and she waved what was left of her biscuit at Preston, who grinned and gave her a thumbs up in response. “I’m getting some coffee. If you’ll excuse me, Elder.”

Back to the charade already. He allowed himself one small, disappointed sigh before bowing politely, “Of course, General.”

She made her way to Preston’s table and twirled for him as well. Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle at that. For someone who never seemed to care about wearing the appropriate thing, she sure seemed to enjoy dressing up.

Cait was gone from Danse’s table by the time he arrived and the paladin had already inhaled most of his food when Arthur sat down with his own tray.

“Elder.”

“Paladin Danse...was that Miss Cait I saw earlier?”

His cheeks went dark and he smiled, “It was.”

“So? How goes it?” He shoved a forkful of some kind of egg concoction into his mouth and immediately wanted more.

“Well --”

“What is this?” He stared down at his plate.

“Huevos Pericos.”

“What?”

“Something from Ella’s childhood.”

“It’s delicious.”

Danse nodded, “Yes, sir, it is.”

Arthur ate a few more bites, savoring the delicious tomatoes and the delicately flavored onions in the dish before he started. “Oh! I apologize, Danse. I interrupted you.”

He took a sip of coffee and chuckled, “It’s quite alright, sir.”

“So how is Miss Cait these days?”

The blush from before was back, “She’s uh...she’s good. She’s very, _very_ good actually. Surprisingly so, really.”

His eyes finally came up from his eggs and he searched the paladin’s face before grinning, “Ah. Congratulations are in order, I believe.”

“They might be.” He immediately turned evasive and tried entirely too hard to be casual, “Congratulations to you, too, sir.”

He very nearly dropped his fork and only just managed to cover by taking a sip of coffee. “I beg your pardon?”

Danse smiled kindly, “For making contact with the Midwestern Brotherhood like this. Both Elder Lyons and Sarah would be very proud of you today.” His large hand covered the elder’s and squeezed gently. “You don’t have to be so nervous, Arthur. I’m sure it will all go fine. Ella’s planned for every possible contingency. She always does.”

He stared at their hands and tried to not think of where his had been just fifteen minutes prior. “Of course. Thank you, Danse. Your words are, as ever, a welcome comfort.”

“Aw, you boys holding hands? That’s so sweet.”

Danse glared up at Deacon and immediately returned his hand to his side of the table. “Is there something we can help you with?”

He grinned cheekily, “Yeah, you might want to get the lead out. Everyone’s already headed for the courtyard. Bunker Hill just radioed that there’s a vertibird inbound. Got a symbol painted on it that kinda looks like the Brotherhood gears with two stars on either side. Sound familiar?”

The Midwestern chapter. They’d incorporated the old Chicago flag into their official insignia. Arthur glanced around and frowned when he realized the room was nearly empty.

“Yes, thank you. That will be Elder Short and his entourage.”

Despite the sunglasses, Arthur was sure he rolled his eyes. “Oh, his _entourage._ Goody.” He shook his head and wandered back out of the room, somehow managing to look both bored and irritated at the same time.

Danse drank the last of his coffee and stood, “Elder?”

He still had eggs left and he hadn’t even gotten to try the delicately pink jelly on his toasted flatbread. Ah well. Maybe next time. He hurriedly drained his own mug and stood, straightening his coat. “Let’s go.”

By the time they reached the courtyard, the familiar sound of a vertibird in the distance could be heard. Arthur took his place on Ella’s right and tried to remain dignified in the face of her excited bouncing. Preston stood on her left, calm and unflappable as ever. They all watched in silence as the elder’s transport finally came into view and touched down on the opposite of the enclosure, dust flying everywhere.

“Oh!” Ella’s hands immediately went to keeping her skirt modestly down and Arthur was impressed when Preston moved to stand in front of her without being asked, shielding her from the worst of it.

“You alright, General?”

She smiled sweetly at her second, “Yes, thank you, Preston. You’re always so thoughtful.”

“Ma’am.” Once the wind had died back down, he eased back into his official position.

Arthur caught his eye and gave him a solemn nod of approval. If he hadn’t already been so dedicated to the Minuteman, he’d have made a fine Brotherhood member. Possibly even paladin material.

The moment the blades stopped spinning, Ella took off at a brisk walk. A little too eager and enthusiastic to be proper, as always. Arthur and Preston flanked her and kept their pace slow and stately.

She rushed right up to the door, a good twenty feet ahead of her fellow diplomats and smiled brightly as it opened, holding a hand out. “Hello! Welcome to the Castle! I’m the General of the Minutemen and Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel, Ella Bradley. It’s such a pleasure!”

A Brotherhood Knight in full armor hopped down and stared at her for a moment before accepting her hand, “Governor, too, right? You wear a lot of hats...I’m Knight Oakley.”

“Oh! No one told me you were a woman.”

The helmeted head tilted a bit, “Does that matter?”

A rough, soft voice answered from within the vehicle, “It matters to a lady, Jen.”

Ella’s attention immediately turned to the figure and her smile got even brighter and more excited, “Elder Short?”

“Got it in one.”

Her eyes were huge and awestruck as he stepped down, “It’s an honor, sir. An absolute honor!” She looked back at Arthur and he immediately knew something was about to go sideways. “If I may, I have the privilege of introducing you to the High Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, Arthur Maxson.” She motioned him forward. “Elder Maxson...meet Elder Short of the Midwestern Brotherhood.”

Arthur already had his hand out when the man stepped from the shadow of the bird and he couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. “Elder Short?”

A ghoul wearing the long, dignified, navy blue robes he’d last seen on Elder Lyons the first took his hand and gave him a firm, solemn handshake while his dark eyes twinkled with mischievous glee. “Arthur. Good to see you, son. Last time I saw you, you were still wearing diapers.” He looked him over and nodded, “You’ve gotten a bit bigger since then.”

His brain absolutely refused to cooperate and everything he’d ever learned about diplomacy was gone. Just gone. Replaced by shock and mild mortification. “I’m over twenty now.”

Short chuckled and patted the back of his hand before letting it go. “And who’s this fine paladin with you?”

Ella, still almost vibrating with excitement, answered happily. “This is Paladin Danse, Elder Short. I guarantee you won’t find a finer example of Brotherhood principles and dedication anywhere.”

Danse looked as shell-shocked as Arthur felt and nodded, just once. “Thank you, Ella. It’s uh...it’s nice to meet you, Elder Short. Your service record is outstanding.” He kept glancing over at Arthur, clearly hoping for some kind of direction here, but he was still too stunned to do anything more than stand there like an imbecile.

Short puffed up a bit, “Thank you, my boy. It’s nice to be appreciated...for once.” Knight Oakley behind him huffed and he winked at Ella before motioning to Preston. “And this handsome young man is?”

She actually took his arm, and hung off it like some starstruck devotee. “This is Lieutenant Preston Garvey, of the Commonwealth Minutemen, sir. Our absolute best and brightest.”

Preston’s cheeks went dark at that and he shook Elder Short’s hand, “Well, I wouldn’t go quite that far, General, but thank you. How do you do, Elder? Was the journey pleasant?”

The ghoul looked impressed, “Yes, thank you. My word. Actual courtesy from a wastelander. Wherever did you find this one, Bradley? Or are people in Boston just naturally better mannered than Chicagoans?” The question earned him another huff from Oakley and he grinned.

“Well, Bostonians can be a trifle...challenging to deal with, at times, but Preston is an absolute joy. Always has been. He’ll be acting as your host for the summit, Elder.”

“Please, dear, call me Matthew.”

Her cheeks went pink, “Matthew, then.”

Garvey bowed politely and motioned towards the Castle, “This way, Elder Short, Knight Oakley. I’ll show you to your chambers and then we can get started once you’re settled in.”

“Thanks, Garvey. This is some setup you’ve got here.”

“Thank you, sir! The Castle, or Fort Independence as it was once called, is over four hundred years old…”

Arthur watched them go. Watched Preston go through his historical spiel as a good, dutiful host. Watched Ella still hanging off Elder Short’s arm, the ghoul’s hand resting over hers like they were dear old friends.

Danse took his proper place next to him and one step behind. “Sir? What...what do we do here?”

He shook his head and finally convinced his feet to move as they took up the rear, “I honestly don’t know.”


End file.
